


just kiss me slow

by carissima



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, F/M, Rule 63, Self-Esteem Issues, minor benn/seguin, minor hall/nugent-hopkins/eberle, taylor hall trade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 06:24:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13207863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carissima/pseuds/carissima
Summary: The program finally starts and she can’t stop herself from grinning stupidly when she hears his voice. They ask about her and she leans forward, listening avidly.“We’re very happy to be together for the next eight years,” he tells them.Connor punches the air. “Hell yeah we are,” she tells the screen.“Have you guys just been texting each other happy faces emojis constantly?” Sid asks.“Yeah, lots of kisses,” Leon says and Connor freezes.





	just kiss me slow

**Author's Note:**

> you know when they say writers write the fic they most want to read? consider this that fic. it's entirely self-indulgent and i'm not even sorry about it. 
> 
> a huge thank you AS EVER to bee for the beta (and cheerleading). and for doing it super fast. and for doing it on vacation =)
> 
> while this fic is mostly canon compliant, i've moved around a few games and timelines. for reasons.

Connor does a double take when she meets Leon for the first time. He doesn’t seem to notice, since he’s too busy offering his hand and smiling somewhat shyly at her. It’s an annoyingly common reaction; one that she’s reluctantly gotten used to even if she still hates it. But she shakes his hand, glancing down as he squeezes hers gently, then he’s moving away and there’s someone else’s hand to shake. But her gaze follows Leon as he walks away from her, all broad shoulders and confidence, despite the shy smile. He’s possibly the prettiest hockey player she’s ever met.

She finds herself watching him on the ice, her eyes drawn to his form. She helplessly catalogues how he skates, his shooting preferences, how his body moves on the ice. Connor tells herself that it’s because they’re future teammates and it’s just good hockey sense to learn everything she can about them before they hit the ice together.

But it’s just Leon she watches.

It’s embarrassing, She’s spent her whole life surrounded by hockey players and she’s never once given any of the guys she’s played with - or against - a second look off the ice. She’s stared at some of them on the ice admittedly, her breath caught by a beautiful play or breathtakingly smooth skating. She’s even had a hockey crush on some of them and she’s been embarrassingly obvious about it. But she’s never once thought about kissing any of them. It’s unprofessional and inappropriate and besides, Connor’s always been too busy playing hockey and trying to beat her opponents, hockey crush or not, to care much about any of that.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to apply to Leon.

She watches him through orientation camp and isn’t surprised at how solid he seems on the ice. He’s fast and smooth and breezes through the fitness tests. Connor, on the other hand, is breathless and sweaty by the end of the tests, cursing under her breath. She adjusts her ponytail, wincing at the dampness by her temples, and rolls her aching shoulders. She’s in good shape, obviously, but she’d rather practice her skills on the ice than spend hours in the gym. She does what she has to of course, but she hates every minute she’s not on the ice.

When she walks into the locker room at the end of the first day, everyone quietens down for a second. She’s used to it by now, it happens every time she starts a new season or joins a new team. Most of the guys coming up haven’t played on a team with a girl, even though women have been playing in the NHL for a decade already. She’s played against Nurse before though and he shoots her a grin. Nods his head at the stall next to his.

“Thanks,” she mumbles and heads towards him, stripping her shirt off over her head. She doesn’t give a shit who sees her in the locker room, in here she’s a hockey player just like everyone else. Besides, Connor knows what type of girls attract hockey players and it’s not her. She’s over six feet tall, with strong thighs and toned biceps, she’s sweaty most of the time and she doesn’t have a scrap of makeup on. She can also skate faster than everyone in the room, and she knows from experience that most guys resent her for it, at least at first.

By the time they stop hating her, she’s usually just one of the guys and that suits her fine.

*

It doesn’t take long for Connor to fit into the team. She’s happy that Nursey is staying up for the season too, and Leon too, eventually. Having Taylor there helps, as a fellow female number one pick. Connor moves into Taylor’s place and it’s nice, having another girl on the team for once. She doesn’t take any shit from the guys on the team and Connor loves that about her. Connor has her own, quieter way of dealing with any shit that comes up, but mostly it just doesn’t. Taylor has them pretty well trained by now.

It takes her a few months to realize that Taylor has a thing going on with Ebs, and it’s not until she’s stuck at home with a broken collarbone, angry and frustrated, before she finally figures out that it’s not Hallsy and Ebs. It’s actually Hallsy, Ebs and Nuge, which she discovers late one night when she wanders into the kitchen for a drink of water and finds the three of them plastered together against the refrigerator, hands in places that Connor wishes she’d never seen. She covers her eyes and tries to ignore Hallsy’s giggles and Nuge’s frantic apologies.

“It’s fine, guys,” Connor says patiently, hands still firmly covering her face. “But uh, maybe keep it to the bedroom?”

“Sure thing, Connor,” Ebs says, and she opens her eyes in time to find him dragging Taylor into her room and shoving Nuge after her. She steadfastly ignores the breathy grunts and muffled screams through their adjoining wall and falls asleep with her headphones in to Taylor Swift shaking it off.

It’s surprisingly not awkward in the morning. Connor sits at the breakfast bar and tries not to stare at Ebs and Nuge lazily making out while Taylor sings off-key and cooks breakfast for everyone.

“Does the team know?” Connor asks when Ebs finally shoves Nuge off his lap, both of them pink-cheeked and happy.

“Some of them,” Hallsy says, sliding eggs onto Connor’s plate and hip-checking her. “We don’t really advertise it.”

It’s easy to see though, now that Connor knows. Taylor is gorgeous, stacked and confident in herself. She flits between the boys, commanding their attention and preening when she gets it in spades. Connor watches them in envy, smiling indulgently when they glance her way.

*

Connor doesn’t really do makeup or tight clothing. She’s happiest in her sweats, hair pulled back from her face. Low maintenance, Dylan called her once back in Erie. Lazy, Marns had countered, before Dylan had launched herself at him, pinned him to the ground and forced a half-hearted apology from him that Connor hadn’t even needed. Occasionally she looks in the mirror and pokes at her skin and wishes that she looked more like the girls on instagram that her teammates are always liking the pictures of. Her blonde hair is long and thick, but she mostly ties it back in a ponytail for convenience, or a braid if she’s got time.

But when her teammates drag her out to a bar, she tries to at least make an effort. Like tonight, she’d braided her hair and left it to trail down over her shoulder. Her jeans are comfortable rather than tight and sexy, and her shirt is soft and worn. She’s tucked between Hallsy and Nuge at their booth but she’s not listening to a word they’re saying. She’s watching Leon over at the bar, talking to a girl.

She’s blonde and stunning. Her legs go on for miles, only just covered by the shortest, tightest skirt Connor’s ever seen, enough to make her wince in empathy. The girl is giggling, her hand on Leon’s arm and he’s bent down towards her, smiling.

Connor’s not jealous. She’s seen Leon flirt before at bars, watched as he’s taken girls home and come into practice the next day with marks on his body and scratches down his back. He’s pretty discreet about it, unlike most of the other guys who strut around the locker room proudly after a hook up while Connor rolls her eyes at them.

She’s not jealous because there’s no competition. She’s big and muscular, for a girl at least. Connor’s never flirted in her life; wouldn’t know how to or recognize if someone was flirting with her, according to Dylan. She’s kissed guys before, of course. But she’s always careful, she has to be as a woman, as an NHL player. The guys she takes to bed usually just want to say they’ve slept with the Next Great One or whatever, and they never stick around for long. She’s never been asked out on a date and she’s never had a relationship, long-term or otherwise. She’s just not that girl, apparently.

When Leon leaves with the girl, Connor sighs wistfully.

“Someone’s got a crush,” Hallsy murmurs, keeping her voice low. Connor glances at her and Taylor grins slyly. “I can see why. He’s gorgeous.”

“Hey,” Nuge pouts.

Connor rolls her eyes and shoves at Taylor until she moves just enough for Connor to slide out. “Go have your weird foreplay somewhere else,” Connor mutters, trying not to notice as Nuge’s hand disappears under the table and Taylor gets this weird, blissed out expression on her face. “And shut up, I don’t have a crush.”

“Hey, it’s cool,” Nuge tells her. “Leon’s a good guy. You should go for it.”

Connor lets out a pained laugh. “Yeah, as if Leon would be interested. You’ve seen the girls he picks up, right? They’re gorgeous.”

“Yeah,” Nuge says slowly, glancing at Taylor who is busy biting her lip and inching closer to him. “Have you seen the girls Leon picks up?”

“Uh, yeah?” Connor shoves her hands into her pockets and hunches her shoulders. “He likes big boobs and long legs and blonde hair. Same as every other hockey player I’ve ever met,” she says, lifting her eyebrows and staring between Nuge and Hallsy.

“She’s got you there,” Taylor laughs in delight, flicking her hair back over her shoulder.

“You’re both idiots,” Nuge says flatly.

“Hey,” Taylor protests, wiggling even closer and Connor knows the exact moment they both forget that she’s even standing there. She turns to leave and finds Ebs behind her, staring at Taylor and Ryan, the heat obvious in his eyes.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Connor mutters under her breath. “Take your boyfriend and your girlfriend home before the entire team figures out that you’re fucking.”

“Good idea,” Ebs says, which is how Connor finds herself in an Uber, staring out of the window determinedly as her teammates eye-fuck each other the whole way home.

*

She’s lying on the couch the next afternoon, her head in Taylor’s lap when Taylor starts unbraiding her hair. Morning skate was a hard one and Connor’s pretty exhausted.

“Hey Davo?”

“Hmm?” she hums, half asleep. She pushes her head up into Taylor’s hands, pleaded when she starts twisting her fingers in the strands. She’s just starting to relax when Taylor’s hands still.

“If you want, we could go get our hair done,” Taylor says, hesitant in a way that Connor never usually associates with her.

“You want to go get your hair done with me?” Connor asks sceptically. She twists her head and looks up at Taylor, lifts her own hand to run through the strands. “Is it that bad that you have to supervise?”

“No of course not,” Taylor says, dismissive. “I was just thinking about what you said last night. About Leon and the kind of girls he goes home with.”

Connor sighs and sits up, stretching her legs out before she curls up, hugging her knees to her chest. “I don’t think a different hairstyle is going to make Leon fall in love with me.”

“You want him to fall in love with you?” Taylor blinks at her, her face suddenly and unusually serious. “Shit, Connor. I thought you just wanted to fuck him.”

Connor flushes and ducks her head, lets her hair fall down around her shoulders like a curtain. “It doesn’t really matter what I want,” she says quietly. “It never does.”

She feels Taylor’s arm wrap around her and she lets herself fall into her side just for a moment. Then she sits up, tying her hair back with the band she usually keeps on her wrist, and flashes Taylor an unconvincing smile, if Taylor’s expression is anything to go by.

“So that’s a no on the hair?” Taylor asks, letting her long legs stretch out in front of her. Even in old sweats and after a long workout, she looks incredible, makes Connor feel plain and awkward in her favorite Otters hoodie with the hole in the left arm and the pasta stain that’s never come out on her right shoulder. If she were anyone else, Connor might hate her a little.

“It’s a no,” Connor says and pats Taylor’s shoulder before standing up and yawning, suddenly feeling exhausted. “But thanks for the offer.”

“Anytime,” Hallsy says, and Connor knows she means it.

*

The last person Connor expects to offer to be her wingman is Nursey. They’ve known each other for a few years now but this is the first year they’ve played together. Connor’s just happy to be playing with him rather than against him after last year’s playoffs.

“We’re going out,” he tells her after a morning skate in February. She’s finally back out on the ice and she’s kicking serious ass out there.

“I think your girlfriend might have a problem with that,” Connor says as she ties the laces on her sneakers. When she looks up, Darnell looks unimpressed and it startles a laugh from her. “Relax, I’m kidding.”

“I know,” Darnell says, looking pained but he yanks her to her feet anyway, towering over her but folding himself down a little. She supposes he’s used to it, since Mikayla is absolutely tiny next to him. “Tonight. Me, you and Drai. Rookie bonding.”

Connor’s glad of her media training right then as she keeps her expression blank. “Isn’t it a bit late in the season for rookie bonding?”

“Nope,” Darnell tells her cheerfully. “I’ll text you the time and place. Don’t flake out on us, Davo. We’re bonding.” He emphasizes the last word like a warning.

“I’ll be there,” she says, her gaze flicking over to where Leon is chatting to Kass.

“It’ll be good,” Nursey promises, his eyes sharp on her as she looks back at him.

“Sure,” she says easily. “Bonding. Can’t wait.”

*

Connor wonders if they look weird to an outsider. She’s sitting between Darnell and Leon, and she’s hardly small but they’re both bigger than she is, their knees all bumping against each other under the table. They’re also easily the two most attractive guys in the bar.

“Lucky me,” Connor says, picking up her beer and toasting herself with a laugh. She’s on her third drink and she’s having a blast. Leon’s humour runs dry, surprising laughs out of her when she’s least expecting it, while Darnell is funny and charming and he’s stupidly good at putting Connor at ease.

“Why’s that?” Darnell asks distractedly. He’s watching the Flyers game on the screen behind Connor. Connor refuses to watch any screen where Manning might appear in high res.

“Sitting here with two handsome hockey players,” Connor says before she reaches over the table and smacks his shoulder. “I thought we were bonding here? Stop watching the fucking Flyers.”

“Relax, Manning is playing like shit,” Darnell tells her, but at least he’s stopped watching the game. “Sorry, Davo. What were you saying about my good looks?”

“Can’t remember,” she says blankly.

Leon shakes his head and fights a smile. “She said we were handsome,” he says helpfully, to Darnell’s delight.

“I don’t remember saying that,” Connor says thoughtfully. “Are you sure?”

Leon reaches over and tugs gently on her ponytail. “Pretty sure.”

Connor flushes and picks up her drink, only to frown when she sees that it’s empty. “My round, boys. Should probably be the last one though, we’ve got that early flight in the morning.”

“Sure thing, mom.”

“Oh my god, I’m not the team mom, don’t you dare start that shit,” Connor groans as she stands up and pushes away from the table. Every team she’s ever been on tries to make her the team mom, to their own regret. Just because she’s a girl, she grumbles silently to herself.

She orders their beers and smiles at the bartender who clearly recognizes her but isn't making a big deal out of it. She hands over the money for the drinks and scribbles her name on a napkin for him, blushing furiously when she hands it to him.

“Thanks,” he tells her sincerely and she nods, embarrassed.

She picks up the bottles and is about to turn to head back to the table when she sees the guy next to her smiling winningly at her.

“Hi,” she says warily. She knew she shouldn’t have signed that damn napkin.

“Hi,” he says and holds out his hand. “I’m Steve.”

“Hi Steve,” Connor says automatically. Steve is cute, she realizes and her smile softens to something a little less forced. “I’m Connor.”

“I know,” Steve says conspiratorially, leaning in like they’re sharing a secret instead of their names. “You’re Connor McDavid.”

Connor’s heart sinks a little. There’s always some guy in a bar who knows her and wants to pick up The Connor McDavid. She’s been here before and it never ends well.

“Do you ah, want an autograph or something?” she reaches back into her purse to pull out the sharpie she always carries around but his hand presses over hers, stopping her. She lifts her eyebrows in surprise and pointedly looks at their hands, but he just smiles at her.

The thing is, she knows she’s stronger than this dude. She takes hits from guys bigger than him on a daily basis and stays on her feet. She knows she could easily shrug him off. But she’s also a girl who knows how men act when she brushes them off and bruises their ego. And she doesn’t want to cause a scene here in the middle of a bar in Edmonton. She knows the headlines, she’s seen what the media’s done to Segs in the past. She’s watched Sid give bland answer after bland answer to avoid controversy.

She tries to gently pull her hand back but the guy, Steve, isn’t letting her.

“Hey, you should let me buy you a drink,” he says.

Connor gives him her best media smile and holds up the bottles in her other hand. “Sorry,” she says, not sorry at all. “I should really get back to my friends.”

“Or you could stay here and we could get to know each other,” Steve says, his voice lowered as he leans way too far into her personal space.

“Look,” Connor begins, annoyed now.

But that’s as far as she gets because an arm slides around her shoulders and she finds herself pressed against a warm, solid body.

“Everything alright?” Leon murmurs, shifting slightly to shield her from Steve and the rest of the bar.

“I was just on my way,” Connor tells him, smiling brilliantly in relief. She leans into him just a little, and Steve’s hand finally falls away from hers. “Steve here is a fan.”

“Yeah?” Leon turns back towards him, his arm still firmly wrapped around Connor. “Oilers fan?”

“Just casually,” Steve says, glancing between them.

And Connor knows what he sees. She knows what Leon’s trying to insinuate to get this guy to back off, and part of her is grateful and a little giddy to be tucked into his side, like a girlfriend would be. But he’s not her boyfriend and it’s just pretend, which is why she eases away from him, just a little. “It was nice to meet you Steve, but we’ve got an early flight tomorrow, so.”

She flashes him a big smile and gives Leon a little nudge, urging him back towards Darnell, who’s watching them with interest.

“Sorry,” Leon says as they wind their way through the tables. “You just looked like you needed rescuing?”

Connor sighs and waits until they’re back at their table and she’s sitting down before she looks at him. He’s wearing a sheepish expression and he’s carefully pulling the label off his beer.

“Thanks for coming over,” she says, reaching over to still his hands. “You saved me from making a scene.”

“But you had it covered,” Leon guesses, shaking his head self-deprecatingly. “Sorry, Connor. I know you can handle yourself.”

“You do?” Connor asks in surprise.

“Yeah, of course,” Leon says, turning his hand in Connor’s so that they’re palm-to-palm. “My sister hates when I try to protect her, too. Says when she needs my help, she’ll ask for it.”

“She’s clearly the smart one in the family,” Connor teases him gently.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you pick up,” Darnell says thoughtfully.

Connor quickly pulls her hand back from Leon’s and takes a sip of her beer. “Like I’d pick up in front of the team,” she says breezily. “You’d either all give him the third degree or chirp me for being slutty. So no, thanks.”

“Hey,” they both protest instinctively, but Connor knows it’s true. She’s seen it happen. She’s heard stories from Dylan and Segs.

“You know we wouldn’t, right?” Darnell says, frowning.

“No offense guys, but you would. No one says anything when Leon goes home with a different girl each night, except maybe to congratulate him. If I did it, even once, you’d all think differently about me. It’s different for girls. It always is.”

She stares resolutely at the table when she’s finished, stubbornly tracing the scarred wood with her index finger.

“I mean, it’s not every night,” Leon says finally. He sounds slightly put out.

Connor laughs softly, looking up to find Leon watching her, his head cocked to one side. His mouth curves into a slight smile.

“It’s definitely most nights,” Darnell sniffs, elbowing him not so gently. They scuffle for a minute until Darnell’s in serious danger of being tipped off his chair and calls a truce. Connor just shakes her head at them and throws a napkin at them.

“Right, so let’s get back to business,” Darnell says and points his beer at her. “I’m gonna be your wingman.”

“You are,” Connor says flatly. She glances at Leon, who simply shrugs.

“Next time we’re out and there’s no game the next day, I’m finding you a nice boy to take home,” Darnell says firmly.

“Does Mikayla know you’re planning to pick up boys?” Leon asks dryly.

“Shut up, she approves of all my life choices,” Darnell says with a grin. “What do you say, Connor?”

“I say it sounds like a terrible plan,” she says, and finishes her beer. “And besides,” she says slyly, boosted by the beer, “who says I want a nice boy?”

Leon blinks at her before he bursts into laughter, while Darnell hoots and hollers at her.

“Oh my god stop drawing attention to us,” Connor says urgently, trying to shush the two of them as they get more raucous and louder.

“Connor McFuckingDavid,” Darnell says, sounding awed. “Who fucking knew?”

“See? This is why I don’t pick up in front of the team,” Connor grumbles as they all stand up to leave.

Leon puts his hand on her lower back as they make their way out of the bar. “You’re full of surprises, McDavid.”

Connor huffs out a laugh, because Leon has no fucking idea.

“Bonding!” Darnell calls over his shoulder, beaming at the two of the them as he leads the way through the crowded bar.

“Bonding,” she tells Leon in her most serious, bland voice.

His laughter follows her out of the bar, into the cold Edmonton night.

*

After that night, the three of them become inseparable. Nursey is over at Connor and Taylor’s place more often than not, usually on the phone to his girlfriend who seems to find it hilarious that he’s spending all his time with the girls on the team. Connor likes Mikayla a lot.

Leon spends less time there, but the three of them usually head out for a drink at least once a week, and on those nights, Leon never picks up. He still hooks up with girls when they go out as a team, but when it’s just the three of them, he sticks close to the table and gently turns down any girl who approaches them.

Connor tries not to read anything into it.

And thankfully, Darnell mostly drops the idea of trying to help her hook up.

It’s just easy, the three of them. Connor misses Dylan a lot, but having the boys around makes everything seem a little easier. When she needs a little space, she knows she can turn up on Leon’s doorstep and he’ll sit her down on his sofa, bring her a cup of hot chocolate and put Brooklyn 99 on for them to watch in silence until she’s ready to talk. She starts stealing his hoodies whenever she's around his place, since they’re bigger and softer than her own. She’s pretty sure that Darnell would let her wear his, but he’s got a girlfriend and Connor has to draw a line there. So she sticks to Leon’s clothes and tells herself it’s because he’s single and he doesn’t mind when she raids his closet, or when she reluctantly hands them back.

The season ends early for them. It’s disappointing, but it just makes Connor want to work harder for next season.

Hallsy calls them the three musketeers and thinks it’s hilarious.

“How are you going to survive the off-season?” she teases.

Connor looks up from the sofa where she’s squashed between Darnell and Leon, texting her mom while the boys argue over COD. “I’ll be fine. I don’t know how these two will cope though.”

“Yes, it’ll be hard going home and seeing my girlfriend every day and actually getting laid regularly,” Darnell says, pausing the game mid-snipe.

“Okay too much information,” Connor says, pulling a face.

Leon leans over her to give Darnell a high five and Connor wonders why she hangs out with either of them.

“And I’ll see Connor at the World Cup,” Leon says quietly. None of them have really mentioned it in front of Taylor since she didn’t get selected and was super pissed about it for two weeks after the rosters had been announced.

“You can talk about it in front of me, you losers,” Taylor says, rolling her eyes. “I don’t give a shit.”

Connor, Leon and Darnell turn in unison to stare at her with matching expressions of disbelief.

“Fuck off, I don’t,” Taylor mutters, slamming her mug down on the kitchen counter. “The World Cup is dumb anyway, who cares about the stupid tournament.”

She storms off to her bedroom, muttering under her breath and slamming the door behind her, probably to call Ebs for some sympathy.

“Yeah, she’s totally over it,” Leon says dryly, sending Connor and Darnell into fits of laughter.

But she is going to miss them, she realizes as she settles back down between them. It’s going to be a long, playoff-free summer.

*

Hallsy gets traded in late June. Connor calls her immediately and they spend a long time cursing out Chiarelli, which Connor will probably feel guilty about later but right now, it’s the only thing that’s making her feel a little better.

It’s somewhat cathartic, but Connor still feels shitty about the whole thing. She feels responsible, and she doesn’t know how to ask Taylor if she blames Connor too.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” Connor says softly. She’s lying on her parents sofa wearing one of Leon’s old Kelowna hoodies that he’d left lying around before jetting home for the summer.

“Shut up, you’re going to be awesome,” Taylor says fiercely. “You’re gonna do what I couldn’t, okay? You should take the house.”

“What? I can’t!” Connor says, horrified at the thought of living in Taylor’s house without her.

“Yes you can and you will,” Taylor says. “Besides, who else would I trust with my house? The rest of the team are fucking morons.”

Connor laughs helplessly.

“You should have Nursey move in,” Taylor says, softer now. “The two of you can look after each other.”

Connor sighs. She really doesn’t want to think about being in Edmonton without Taylor right now. “What about Ebs and Nuge?” she asks quietly.

She can hear Taylor’s deep breath down the line. “We’ll be fine,” Taylor says, sounding firm and sure. “We'll figure it out.”

They talk for a while longer, both reluctant to hang up until Taylor finally says goodbye. Connor spends the rest of the day curled up in bed, ignoring her phone as it rings and vibrates with messages.

The only one she responds to is Leon’s, sending him five sad face emojis. He responds with a blurred selfie, it’s dark but she can see him trying to imitate the emojis. His beard is a little fuller and he looks like he’s been working out and putting on some bulk. The hockey player in her approves. The feminine side of her really approves. He looks good, blurred picture aside.

Her hair is a mess and her eyes are a little red-rimmed, but she snaps a picture of her pouting anyway and sends it before she can second-guess herself.

I miss your face he sends back.

It’s the most surprising thing she’s learned about Leon, she thinks. He’s the sappiest guy she’s ever met, always sending texts with a heart eyes emoji or signing off with more hearts than is probably reasonable. He’s just as bad on instagram, leaving comments and hearts all over their teammates pictures.

It’s endearing and adorable and it drives Connor mad.

It hasn’t changed in the last month, I promise she sends back.

World Cup is two months away he replies. Can't wait to be back home.

Her traitorous heart flips at the idea that Leon thinks of Canada as home now. She sends him a text chirping about how he’s going to lose to her team at the World Cup, he sends a chirp back and before she knows it, she’s grinning at her phone, her mood lifted.

*

When she’s handed the captaincy, Leon and Darnell drag her out for celebratory drinks. It’s the first time they’ve been out just the three of them since the end of last season and she’s still floating on the high of having them back in Edmonton with her and the C that’s going to be on her jersey tomorrow night.

Leon lets her lean into his side at the table and Darnell doesn’t complain when she keeps pressing her knee against his.

“Someone’s missed us, eh?” Darnell says when she nudges his leg for the fourth time in as many minutes.

“Shut up,” Connor grumbles easily. She feels warm and happy and like she’s come home. She wasn’t sure Edmonton would ever feel like home, but it does tonight.

“Already playing favorites, this one,” Leon teases her, his fingers brushing over her sleeve where he’s slung his arm over her shoulder. “Hasn’t even had the captaincy for five minutes.”

“Yeah, I think the cat is out of the bag on that one, guys,” Connor rolls her eyes. “The team already think we’re weirdly co-dependent.

“Not me,” Leon says, leaning back in his chair but keeping his arm stretched out across the back of hers. “I’ve got my own apartment.”

“Which we both have spare keys for,” Darnell reminds him. “Connor spends half her time at yours anyway.”

“I don’t!” Connor protests.

“I don’t mind,” Leon tells her. “Even if you can’t cook.”

“Just because I’m a girl,” Connor turns to glare at him, “doesn’t mean I can cook.”

“No kidding,” Darnell mutters, not quite under his breath.

“You can make like, two dishes!” Connor kicks him under the table and grins smugly when he groans and leans down to rub his leg.

“That’s two whole dishes more than you,” Darnell points out.

“Okay, I’m officially over you two being back. You two are the worst. I don’t know why I even missed you.”

“Sorry Con, you’re stuck with us now,” Leon says, looking unfairly pleased about it.

“You love us the most,” Darnell agrees, signaling the waiter to bring them another round.

There’s a good chance that she’s going to captain the Oilers for the first time with a hangover. Sitting between Leon and Darnell, arguing over which of them is the better chef, she doesn’t regret a single thing.

*

Leon gets put on her wing in December and they click immediately. Leon’s fast and strong, and sometimes Connor thinks he knows what she’s going to do before she’s even figured it out. He’s astonishingly good at getting the puck on her stick, something that a lot of her linemates haven’t been able to do quite as well as she’d like them to, taking seconds off her play. They start practicing little give and go’s, blind passes that connect more often than not and working on their speed down the ice.

“Anyone ever told you that you’re really fast on the ice?” Leon asks her dryly, puffing a little at the end of a speed drill.

“Never,” Connor blinks at him innocently.

“I knew you were fast, but it’s different when I’m actually out there with you,” Leon says, puffing out his cheeks and shaking his head in amusement. “You’re amazing.”

Connor’s spent most of her life being told how great she is at hockey and she’s always been torn between her own self-confidence and her innate predisposition to brush off any accolades in embarrassment and awkwardness. But when Leon talks about her hockey, it gives her goosebumps.

At this point, she’s accepted that her crush probably isn’t going away any time soon, but she’s managing it, most of the time. It still catches her unaware sometimes how pretty he is or how gorgeous his hockey can be. He can literally take her breath away. But she’s practical; always has been. She knows that he hooks up regularly. That he thinks of her as a sister.

She doesn’t really think about it, for the most part. Leon goes home with gorgeous blondes and she goes home alone, and it’s fine.

She has hockey. And Leon is in love with her hockey as much as she’s in love with his.

She’s seen him staring at her during practice skills, his eyes hot as he watches her form, her hands moving on her stick, her legs as she gathers speed across the ice. It drives her fucking crazy, that look.

It’s right there in the comments he gives to reporters after their games. Interview after interview, he talks about her hockey and how special she is on the ice. It’s there, written in print, across the internet, how he feels about her on the ice. And she’s not much better. She talks endlessly to reporters about how underrated he is, aware that he’s in her shadow and how much that bugs her, even if Leon’s never said a word about it. It’s slightly embarrassing when she watches a few interviews back and realizes that she talks too much about Leon’s size and how much she loves playing with him, above and beyond how teammates usually talk about each other.

Then Leon starts talking about how great their relationship is off-ice in interviews. He tells reporters that she’s one of his closest friends and how that translates so well on the ice for them.

After the first interview where he mentions their friendship, Connor goes home and waits for the media to whip themselves into a frenzy. She remembers how they started talking about Sid and Malkin a few years ago, insinuating with leading headlines and vague assumptions that the two of them were more than teammates. They’d publish photos of Sid leaving Malkin’s house, or the two of them out for dinner together and let the general public fill in the missing pieces. The media are ruthless with gossip about teammates, no matter what market they’re in. Jamie and Tyler get hounded daily, she knows because Segs complained about it for most of camp. And she’s even seen articles about Zach and Dylan, and they don’t even play for the same team.

So she waits. And waits. She checks the Edmonton Sun and Oilers Nation and a few others but while articles appear with Leon’s quotes, captured word for word, there’s no snide insinuations about what Draisaitl might be getting up to with the new Oilers captain behind closed doors.

Confused, she closes the sites down and goes to bed, tossing and turning for ages before she falls asleep.

In the morning, there’s still nothing. No wild headlines, no comments on the articles suggesting that Connor is a slut for her teammate.

She calls Dylan.

“You’re complaining that people aren’t calling you a slut?” Dylan asks, bemused. She sounds sleepy and soft in a way that makes Connor long to be back in Erie.

“It’s the principle,” Connor says before she buries her face in her pillow. “They were all over Crosby and Malkin and he doesn’t say half the shit Leon did last night.”

“Look, I don’t know what you want me to say here, Davo,” Dylan says. “I thought you’d be happy that the media aren’t being shitty for once.”

“Yeah, but why aren’t they being shitty?”

“I dunno,” Dylan muses, still sounding half-asleep. “Maybe they’re evolving into decent human beings.”

Connor rolls over on her bed and stares up at the ceiling. She doesn’t say anything for a while, long enough that she wonders if Dylan’s fallen asleep on her. “Leon’s like, super hot,” she whispers into the phone. “Sid is the fucking definition of the cute girl next door. Segs oozes sex and Dylan looks like America’s sweetheart.”

“Yeah, so?” Dylan mumbles. She’s definitely mostly asleep.

“I’m just,” Connor stops and takes a breath. “I’m just Connor, you know? No one's asked me to pose for GQ or the Body Issue. They just want to see me play hockey, with my pads on and a helmet covering half my face.”

“Connor,” Dylan says warningly, suddenly sounding much more awake. “Seriously? Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?”

Connor laughs but there’s no humor in her voice. “Dyls, it’s pretty fucking obvious what the difference is between me and Segs.”

“She uses her sexuality as a weapon while you hide yours under a rock,” Dylan tells her flatly. “And god fucking bless her. But that has nothing to do with how amazing or how fucking cute you are.”

“Not cute enough for Leon, apparently,” Connor mutters petulantly.

“According to the fucking Edmonton shitty media corps who ran Hallsy out of town,” Dylan reminds her. “How much faith do you put in anyone who thinks a team is better without her in it?”

The reminder hurts, like a jagged spike through her chest, but she manages a weak grin anyway. “Not much?”

“Exactly,” Dylan says with relish. “If Leon or whoever the fuck you like doesn’t want you for who you are, then fuck them. You deserve better.”’

“Love you, Dyls,” Connor murmurs.

“Love you too, you loser. Now fuck off and let me sleep, yeah?”

“Okay,” Connor laughs. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

“Anytime,” Dylan tells her. “I mean it, Davo. Just call me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Connor says, hugging her pillow to her chest. “I will.”

After they’ve said their goodbyes and hung up, Connor very deliberately closes the websites down on her phone and heads out of her room to bang on Nursey’s door.

“Going out for lunch,” she yells through the door. “My treat.”

The door cracks open very slightly and Darnell’s flushed face appears.

“Ew,” Connor says immediately, screwing up her face.

“Call Leon, I’ll be ready in like, 10 minutes,” he tells her.

“15 minutes!” she hears someone yell and Darnell laughs, brandishing his phone.

“Hi Mikayla,” Connor calls out but she makes a face at Darnell and pulls the door shut herself.

When he appears 20 minutes later, he’s freshly showered and looking smug.

“You’re so gross,” Connor tells him, which just draws a bigger grin from him. “And don’t interrupt phone sex with your hot girlfriend for your roommate, asshole. Mikayla should kick your ass for that.”

“Probably,” he shrugs, unconcerned. “Leon coming?”

“He’s gonna meet us there in a bit,” Connor says, grabbing her purse and shoving Darnell towards the door. “Now move, or I’m rescinding my offer to pay.”

She’s never seen him hustle so fast.

*

The season starts flying by when they chase down a playoff position. Connor’s line thrives and suddenly commentators are talking about her and Leon as a dynamic duo in the league. She always, always knows where he is on the ice and he’s one of the few players she’s skated with that can keep up with her. He reads the ice better than anyone and their points tally goes up and up.

“Hey,” Leon murmurs one evening when they’re at his. It’s just the two of them, which is becoming more and more common these days as the season rumbles on and Nursey is still out after his surgery. She’s lazing around on his sofa, tired as she so often is this late in the season. It’s still only her first full season and she’d never admit it, but the games are starting to talk a toll on her, physically and mentally.

“Hmm?” she hums. Her feet are tucked under Leon’s thighs and her head is pillowed on one of his many cushions.

“You think you’re gonna do it?” Leon asks, his thumb stroking her ankle gently.

“Do what?” she murmurs. She’s sleepy and warm and really doesn’t want to head home. She’s crashed on Leon’s sofa a few times, and spent the next morning blankly ignoring Darnell’s suggestive eyebrow gymnastics.

“Reach 100 points,” Leon says, poking at her calf.

Connor opens her eyes and looks at him, considering. “It would be nice,” she says slowly.

“You’re gonna get there,” Leon says decisively. “The team’s gonna get you there, for sure.”

Connor wiggles her toes against his thigh. “You’re gonna get me there.” 

“I’ll get you the puck,” Leon tells her, squeezing her ankle gently. “I’ll get you the puck and you’ll do the rest.”

Connor leans her head against the back of the sofa and smiles at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Leon mirrors her pose, looking soft in a way he rarely does. “Count on it.”

“Okay,” she tells him. “I’m staying here tonight.”

“Sure,” Leon says, easy.

*

They clinch a playoff spot two weeks before the season ends and it’s chaos in the locker room after the game ends and the media have departed.

“Playoffs, Davo!” Kass says with a happy sigh as he walks past her.

She arches her eyebrow and catches Nuge’s eye, both of them dissolving into giggles.

“Hey,” Connor murmurs, drawing Nuge into her side and curling her hand around his hip. “It’s okay to be happy, you know. She’ll be screaming down the phone at you when she sees the final score.”

“I know,” Nuge says, tipping his head to rest against hers for a moment. She hasn’t seen nearly as much of Nuge and Ebs as she did last year, but she’s got a soft spot a mile wide for both of them. It’s been a harder year for the two of them than for most. “I just wish we could have done it with her, you know?”

“Yeah,” Connor reaches up to tousle his hair just a little, enough to make him pull away, laughing. “We’ll make her proud, yeah?”

Nuge bumps her fist gently and moves away to stand by Ebs, the two of them immediately lost in their own little bubble amongst the noise and the music blaring out.

“You should be smiling,” Leon says, appearing by her side and making her jump in surprise.

She puts a hand on her chest and huffs out a self-conscious laugh. “I am,” she says. She leans into his shoulder and relaxes as his arm automatically wraps around her waist. She’s sweaty and exhausted and needs at least one more shower before she feels human again but he always lets her crowd into his space.

Leon flicks her ponytail, still messy from the game. “Don’t forget those 100 points though, yeah? Season’s not over until then.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” she tells him. “You’re gonna get me there.”

“I am,” he tells her seriously before he flicks her hair again and heads for the showers. She watches him go before she turns back to her stall and continues dressing, letting the happy sounds of her teammates swirl around her, heady and excited.

*

She’s relieved that they don’t make her do another speech in the bar, whatever she’d said to them in the locker room seems to have been enough. So she relaxes in one of the booths, Darnell and Klef opposite her with Leon by her side, and lets herself enjoy the moment.

“How does it feel, Captain?” Darnell asks her and raises his beer in a silent toast that has her blushing and kicking him under the table.

“I knew we’d do it,” she says, happy and carefree and loose as she rarely lets herself be. “I had faith in you guys.”

“The crowd was insane,” Klef says, a dreamy look on his face. “Ten years. That’s a long time to wait for playoff hockey.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it to Ebs,” Connor says, her eyes drifting over to where he’s standing with Nuge pressed up against them. They’re usually good at keeping their relationship away from the team, but tonight Nuge has his hand on Eb’s hip, a little too low to be friendly, and Ebs keeps leaning down to talk to him, his hand brushing Nuge’s cheek or shoulder or neck, like he just needs that connection.

Connor leans back against Leon’s arm where it’s laying across the back of the booth and he trails his fingers idly over her shoulder.

“Hey lovebirds,” Patty says as he appears out of nowhere and grins down at them. Leon doesn’t move his hand away and Connor sees him quirk an eyebrow at their linemate. He’s been calling them lovebirds for a few weeks now and it never fails to amuse him.

(The first time he’d used it they were in a bar like this one. They’d just beaten the Flyers in one of the most satisfying games of her life. She picked up three points and watched her team single-mindedly taking last years frustrations out on them. Patty had dropped the gloves and Leon had taken a penalty for a beautiful hit on Manning.

“It was stupid to hit him,” Connor had told Leon in her best captain voice, ruining it when her grin had burst through and she’d pulled him into a tight hug. “Thanks,” she’d whispered in his ear, laughing when he’d tightened his arms round her.

“Okay lovebirds, break it up,” Patty had interrupted.

Connor froze, and there’s no possible way that Leon hadn’t noticed, pressed up against her.

But he hadn’t let her go. He’d simply rearranged their bodies so that she was tucked snugly into his side.

“Connor’s got better taste than to fall for one of us losers, eh Con?” Leon nudged her and snapped her out of her paralysis.

“I’ve seen things in that locker room that can never be unseen,” Connor said, with feeling.

But she’d untangled herself from Leon and pulled Patty into his own hug, thanking him for grounding Manning for her.

“Hey, you don’t have to thank us,” Patty murmured into her hair. “There’s nothing we wouldn’t do for our captain, eh?”

She’d pulled back and smacked a kiss to his cheek, leaving him surprised and flushed.

Connor had laughed, happy to be surrounded by her boys.

But Patty hadn’t given up on the nickname, and Connor had learned to smile and shake her head indulgently whenever he used it.)

Patty pulls her out of the booth and buys her a beer at the bar. She’s kept there as the boys crowd around her, all of them buoyant and happier than she’s ever seen them.

Leon starts talking to a girl at the other side of the bar and Connor turns away, keeping her smile fixed in place as she listens to Kass telling some of the younger guys about his playoff experience.

Leon leaves half an hour later with the girl - blonde, gorgeous, big boobs, skinny, Connor helplessly notes - and Connor orders another beer.

“Make that two,” Darnell says, sidling up next to her. He leans on the bar and stares at her.

“What?” she asks, smiling.

He doesn’t say anything until they’ve got their beers and he takes a long sip, still staring at her. “Want me to kick his ass?” he asks finally.

She wants to pretend to misunderstand, but it’s Darnell and she just can’t. “He’s not doing anything wrong,” she says gently, placing her hand on his wrist and squeezing. “It’s my stupid crush. It’s not his fault.”

“He doesn’t know?” Darnell asks, sounding surprised.

“Well I hope he doesn’t.” Connor goes cold at the thought, but no, she’s pretty sure Leon doesn’t know and she’d like to keep it that way. “I’m dealing with it, I promise.”

“Why haven’t you told him?” Darnell looks confused. “You should tell him. He thinks you’re the best thing since Gretzky.”

“No,” Connor says firmly. “And you’re not telling him either.”

Darnell looks conflicted, but he slips his hand out of her grasp and holds up his pinkie finger. Connor very seriously links hers with his.

“I promise, even though I think you’re being a dumbass,” he tells her solemnly. “Wanna go home?”

“Yeah,” Connor says, blowing out a breath and putting her half-finished beer on the bar. “Let's get out of here.”

They stop at the store on the way home and Darnell buys the largest tub of ice cream he can find. “Screw your diet plan,” is all he says when she questions him.

It helps, even if she does have to spend an additional 30 minutes on the bike tomorrow.

*

Connor heads into the last game of the season on 98 points. The Art Ross is hers, but that’s not what she wants right now. She gets her first assist towards the end of the second period and skates back to the bench, anxiously bouncing her knees as she watches the play and waits for the call to hit the ice again.

“One more point,” Leon says to her when they’re back in the locker room after the period ends. “I’m gonna get you the puck, remember?”

“I remember,” Connor says, too wired up to do more than nod. She doesn’t want to end the regular season on 99 points.

They head back out for the third and she feels electric. She screams in delight when Ebs gets his hat trick, jumping to her skates and throwing her arms in the air.

She’s buzzing. On her next shift, she steals the puck and heads down the ice. She can see Leon to her left and she cuts in and throws the puck towards him. The puck hits his tape and in one smooth shot, it hits the back of the net.

Connor pumps her arms in the air and skates towards him, laughing as Leon spins around and finds her, his arms open. She slams into him, breathless and so, so sure that he’ll catch her.

“You did it!” he yells as they spin around and the rest of the guys curl around them. “Connor, you fucking did it, you beauty!”

She ducks her head and laughs as he pats her helmet a few times. She returns the favor because it’s his second point of the night, which means he’s hit his bonus for the year too.

She glides slowly towards her teammates where they’re waiting to congratulate her when someone skates up behind her and wraps their arms around her shoulders.

“We fucking did it,” Leon says, quieter this time and just for them.

“I got you the puck,” she says, grinning when he rubs her helmet again and they skate past the team, bumping fists.

She turns back and Leon’s there again, reaching for her. There’s a heat in his eyes that she recognizes, a heat that means he’s hot for her hockey. For a moment, just one moment, she lets herself pretend that he’s hot for her, all of her, but then she’s being pulled back to the bench and the moment fades.

*

They make it through the first round of the playoffs and despite Leon’s best efforts to drag the team past the Ducks, they can’t beat them and just like that, the season ends.

The flight back to Edmonton is subdued and Connor spends most of it with her headphones on and her eyes closed. She’s done her captain speech and spoken to most of the players one-on-one. She hasn’t spoken to Darnell or Leon yet, and they haven’t pushed her. It’s too raw with them. It’s been the three of them driving the team on the ice and in the locker room and it stings to be coming back empty-handed when she’d wanted so badly to bring the Cup home.

She and Darnell mooch around the house for a few hours. Then she decides that enough is enough and hits the shower. She washes her hair and ties it back in its usual ponytail and pulls on her most comfy, oldest grey sweats and an old Otters top and heads back out to find Darnell sprawled across the sofa, toque pulled down low over his eyes.

She should probably force them both to talk about the season since she’s his captain, but it’s Darnell. They’ve lived in each other’s pockets for a year and she knows what he’s thinking, how he’s feeling without saying a word.

She drops her hand to his shoulder and squeezes, feels his hand slide over hers for a moment before he lets go.

“Next season,” is all she says.

He grunts in acknowledgement, and that’s good enough for her.

“I’m heading over to Drai’s before he flies home,” she tells him, patting his shoulder before she lets go.

Darnell lifts a hand and she grabs her keys and heads out the door. Leon’s place isn’t far so before she’s ready, she’s parked her car and knocks on his door, feeling apprehensive and anxious and a little desperate to grab hold of him before he disappears halfway across the world for the summer.

Leon opens the door and he looks as tired as she feels. He pushes the door a bit wider and she steps inside, folding into his arms as soon as he opens them for her. It’s easy to bury her face into his shoulder, breathe in his scent and wish for forever. God, it’s too, too easy.

“Sorry,” Leon murmurs into her hair, his voice muffled.

“You pulled us through those last few games,” she tells him, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

He waits a beat. “I’m still sorry though.”

“Yeah,” Connor sighs, pulling back and staring up at him. “Me too.”

“Shut up,” he tells her softly, reaching out to catch a strand of her hair and wind it around his finger. “You got us to the playoffs. The team doesn’t fucking work without you.”

She tilts her head and quirks her lips into a smile. “I’m still sorry though,” she echoes.

Leon laughs faintly and tugs on her hair. “I’m flying out tomorrow night.”

God, she’s really going to fucking miss him. “I want to say good luck, but I also want Canada to crush you.”

“Thanks, Con,” he says, amused. “I’m gonna miss you, you know.”

Connor’s heart thumps wildly in her chest. She knows the correct response is a chirp but what she finds herself saying is, “Really?”

“You know I will,” Leon says, his eyebrows coming together in a frown. “Right?”

“Sure,” she answers, feeling unsteady and a little adrift. “Wait until you get home though and you’re the star of the home team. You won’t have time to miss any of this.”

“Not this, Connor,” Leon says, stepping into her space and forcing her to look up at him. He wraps his hands around her wrists and pulls gently. “You. I’m going to miss you.”

Connor has to turn her head because her damn eyes are watering and she really hates crying. “I’ll miss you too,” she says, her voice thick with the threat of tears.

Leon’s hand cups her cheek and gently turns her back to face him. His eyes are constantly moving, roving around her face like he’s memorizing her. Searching for something.

“You’re gonna miss me?” he asks, like he doesn’t quite believe her.

She kisses him. She doesn’t mean to, but he’s staring at her, giving her his full and undivided attention and she feels dizzy with it. Dizzy and off balance and stupid enough to lean in and press her lips against his. He hasn’t shaved yet so his playoff beard tickles her skin, softer than she’d imagined.

She pulls back, her face red hot and she stumbles, trying to put some space between them.

But Leon catches her - he’s always fucking catching her - and pulls her back in, his hands threading through her hair as he kisses her with a gentleness she has no defenses for.

“Leon,” she breathes, her hands twisting in his shirt and pulling him closer.

She feels him pause, his solid body pressed up against hers, before he shivers and kisses her again without any of the gentleness of before. He kisses her like he’s hungry, starved for her mouth and he’s desperate to taste.

She opens up for him, her back arching helplessly as his hands skim down over her ass and back up, like he can’t decide what part of her he wants to touch more.

They settle on her face, cupping her cheeks as he kisses her until they’re both panting and she needs to touch him like, right now.

He whips off her jersey in a smooth move that she would admire if she wasn’t so busy trying to tug his shirt off. She doesn’t have his finesse, not even close, but he doesn’t seem to mind and just helps her strip him, exposing tanned skin and muscles that make her mouth water.

She leans in and presses her lips to his chest. Her hands fumble with his pants. He rocks his hips against her and she bites back an embarrassing moan when she realizes that he’s hard. Because of her.

“Leon, please,” she pleads, although she’s not sure what for. Her body feels like it’s on fire and there’s too many clothes between them, too much space for what she wants.

He shucks off his jeans and she glances down to see the bulge in his boxers, framed by thick, muscular thighs. She reaches down to palm him through the cotton, swallows his moans in deep, filthy kisses.

“Bedroom,” he mutters, pulling back and taking her hand. He drags her through the apartment and she wants to giggle but she’s too hot, too wired, too needy.

He stops by the bed and his eyes rake down her body. She knows she has an athlete’s build and that she’s built for speed and strength and stamina, but she still feels the urge to cover up, to wrap her arms around her breasts and to turn away.

His hand reaches out to cup her breast through her plain sports bra and she gasps, leaning into his touch.

“Beautiful,” Leon murmurs.

She looks up at him and he’s staring at her, his eyes hot. Hockey hot. He doesn’t take his eyes off her as he removes her bra. He thumbs at her nipple, his eyes molten as she arches up and bites back a whine.

“God, Connor,” he says before he ducks down and takes a nipple into his mouth and suckles her, sending fucking tingles through her body. She starts swearing, a litany of curse words that make Leon laugh against her breast. Then she curls her hand around the back of his head and presses down, urges him on.

He lifts his head and he looks as dazed as she feels. He pushes her gently down onto the bed and strips off the rest of his clothes before he grasps her ankle, making tiny circles against her skin with his thumb.

“Leon,” she murmurs, every single other word seemingly lost from her brain. She’s itching to get her hands on him, to feel those muscles and feel the quiet strength in him. He strokes his fingers up her calves, ghosts over her knees and settles on her thighs, his fingers pressing just hard enough for her to wonder if he’s trying to leave marks on her body. The thought sends her a little wild and she reaches up to kiss him, pulling him down over her, his body a welcome weight as it covers hers entirely, bracketing her from everything else until all she can see and feel is him.

Leon shifts his weight, leaning on one arm as he kisses her, his other hand trailing down her body, lighting fires wherever his teasing fingers travel. They drift lower and lower until his thumb rolls over her clit, dragging a low moan from deep inside her. She squirms, just a little, and he settles himself between her legs, his hands splayed on her thighs, pinning her just where he wants her.

He kisses the inside of her thigh, his hands sliding higher and making her shiver in anticipation. “Yeah?” he murmurs, low and deep.

“Please,” she groans and buries her hands in his hair.

Leon laughs softly; she can feel his breath skim over her already sensitive thighs. He sucks a kiss on her inner thigh and she instinctively tries to squeeze her legs shut but Leon’s too strong, keeps her spread wide open for him. She feels exposed in a way she rarely lets herself be and she’s not sure that she likes it all that much, but then Leon strokes a finger through her wetness and she forgets how to think.

“So wet,” Leon murmurs, sounding awed. “For me?”

“Fuck off,” she pants as he pushes one of his long, clever fingers inside of her.

“I don’t think you mean that, babe,” Leon says and Connor can’t help it, she clenches around him at the endearment.

“More,” she pleads.

“So greedy,” Leon says, pressing another finger inside of her and she feels the stretch, welcomes it with a shudder. Then she arches back at the feel of his tongue on her clit, embarrassing noises escaping from her mouth as her fingers tighten in his hair.

His free hand slides under her back, keeping her arched up towards his mouth, making obscenely wet noises as he alternates between licking and sucking her clit.

Her hips jerk helplessly, she’s so close that she can taste it. He slides another finger inside of her, finding just the right rhythm to drive her crazy. Then he crooks his fingers just as his tongue swirls around her clit and her orgasm rips through her, leaving her trembling and over-sensitive where he’s slowly fucking his fingers in and out of her.

She pushes his head away and he presses a kiss to the inside of her knee, slowly pulling his fingers out of her and lifting them to his mouth. She watches with heat as he flicks his tongue out to taste her.

“Condom,” she says urgently, grabbing at him with her hands and pulling him up for a sloppy kiss.

He reaches for the nightstand, pulling a condom from the drawer and dropping it into her hand.

Connor stares at him wide-eyed for a moment, then reaches down to wrap her hand around him, warm and heavy and leaking. She strokes him once, twice, studying him carefully as he reacts to her touch. Her grip tightens and his lips part. She speeds up and he drops his head down to her shoulder, mouths kisses along the curve of her neck.

He straddles her hips and she slowly rolls the condom on, licking her lips as she anticipates the feel of him inside her.

“Ready?” he murmurs, shifting until he’s back between her legs. His eyes are locked on hers and the force of his full attention makes her shiver. His cock nudges at her entrance and she hooks her ankles around his legs, urging him on.

“Go slow,” she whispers. “It’s uh, been a while.”

“Connor,” Leon groans like he’s dying, dipping down to capture her lips with his, hot and wet and just the right side of rough.

He guides himself into her, going so slowly that she can feel him shaking as he holds himself back. She smooths her hands down his back and buries her face into his shoulder, breathing heavily as he slowly, slowly slides into her, filling her up.

“Okay?” he asks roughly when he’s fully inside her. She feels so fucking full, his heavy weight grounding her, and she locks her legs around him and nods, sucking a wet kiss to his shoulder.

“Please,” she whispers, rocking her hips up, causing a low moan to slip out as she feels every inch of him filling her up. “Leon, please.”

He hushes her with a brush of his lips over hers, a hand stroking through her hair before he starts to move, settling into a slow, deep rhythm that sets her heart racing.

“More,” she urges, lifting her hips to meet his thrusts as they lengthen.

“God Connor, you feel so fucking good,” he groans, nuzzling into her neck as he speeds up, driving into her again and again until she’s on the edge, desperate to fall over the cliff.

She grabs his hand and shoves it between them, arching off the mattress and biting back a scream as he thumbs her clit with fast, sure strokes. Everything goes fuzzy when her second orgasm hits, and she digs her short nails into Leon’s back, his muscles flexing under her hands as he pumps into her a few more times before he follows her with a low, shaky groan.

She braces herself for his weight, except he holds himself up for a moment over her, his eyes hot on hers, before he slips his hands under her hips and rolls them, taking her by surprise. She lands on his chest, her long legs sprawled over his, her hands curled around his biceps.

She’s covered in a thin film of sweat, like she’s been through a hard workout, and she can already feel some of her muscles protesting, out of practice. But she stretches over him, hiding a helpless grin as she turns her face into his neck, her lips tickling his skin.

“Wow,” Leon murmurs, kissing her shoulder. His hands skim down her back and settle on her ass with a gentle squeeze. “Wow, Connor.”

Exhaustion hits her hard and fast, the season and the playoffs and the long hours of skating crashing over her. It’s the kind of exhaustion that settles deep in her bones. She curls herself around him, places her finger over his lips, murmurs a sleepy “goodnight” and lets sleep claim her.

*

She wakes up once in the night to find Leon spooned up behind her, one hand curled around her breast and the other tucked under her head. He’s breathing heavily, not quite snoring, his nose buried in her hair.

She snuggles back into his warmth and falls back asleep.

The next time Connor wakes up, she glances at the alarm clock on the nightstand and startles when she realizes it’s almost midday. Leon’s flight is in a few hours and she’s woken up in his bed.

She’s fucked up.

Leon’s still fast asleep, his face slack and softer than she’s used to. He looks younger, his brow slightly furrowed, angled towards where she’d slept. A quick stretch tells her that she still aches in the best way, and she’ll feel the effects of last night long after Leon’s gone.

She slips out of bed and strides through the apartment, collecting her scattered clothes until she’s dressed. She scrapes her tangled hair back into a messy bun and catches sight of herself in a mirror. She looks thoroughly fucked and - yes, that’s a fucking hickey high on her neck and there’s no way Darnell is going to miss that.

She heads back to Leon’s bedroom and perches on the bed, brushes a stray lock of hair back from his face. He starts to stir and god, he’s so beautiful.

“Hey,” he croaks, his smile fading as he sees that she’s dressed. “Where are you going?”

“We overslept,” she says softly. She really doesn’t want to make this awkward. “You’ve got to catch your flight home.”

Leon looks torn.

“I’m going to watch all your games and point out all your dumb mistakes,” she tells him with a smile, “so you can work on them over the summer.”

“You’re gonna watch my games?” Leon looks inordinately pleased by the idea.

“Of course I will.” Connor flushes and leans in, brushes her lips across Leon’s cheek. “Have a good summer, okay?”

She sees Leon hesitate, but she pretends not to. She really doesn’t need to hear him tell her that last night was a mistake, both of them caught up in the whirlwind of emotions from the playoffs and an incredible year of playing hockey together.

“Connor,” he says, leaning on one elbow and half-reaching for her.

“It’s okay,” Connor says quickly. “You don't have to- we’re okay, yeah? You’ll text, when you get home, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Leon says, sounding relieved and her heart breaks just a little. “So we’re okay?”

“Of course we're okay,” she tells him fervently. The last thing she wants to do is lose him. Even if this is all she’ll ever have, it’d be enough for her. “Promise you’ll text, though.”

“I promise,” he says solemnly. “No contract talk though.”

“Agreed,” Connor says lightly, even though her heart is pounding at the thought. She hates talking about contracts, hates even more that hers and Leon’s are up at the same time. She knows she’s staying, no matter what. This is her team now and she wants to win here. Part of her wants to make him promise that he’ll stay in Edmonton no matter what, but she knows she can’t. All she can do is hope. “I’ve got to go. Have a safe flight and don’t beat Canada, please.”

Leon sits up, the sheets pooled around his hips. “I never promised that,” he calls after her.

She makes it home and jumps in the shower, scrubbing hard at her skin before the tears start to fall.

*

Connor usually loves summer but this one sucks. It’s full of contract negotiations that she doesn’t much care about but her agent does. And when she finally signs, she has to deal with speculation about Leon’s contract, whether he’ll take a bridge deal or perhaps leave Edmonton for another team. It makes her feel uneasy and she can’t even text Leon to make sure he’s not leaving because they agreed not to talk about contracts and he never said a word about hers, aside from a simple congratulations text followed by the heart eyes emoji.

They text most days, even if it’s just a simple good morning or Leon sending her a snap of wherever the hell he is this week. His snapchat is full of places she’s never heard of and people she doesn’t know. It’s a stark reminder that he has an entire other life in Germany, one that doesn’t include her and never will.

The news finally breaks that he’s signed, Edmonton for eight years. The same length as her contract. She sends him a text that just consists of a string of exclamation points and a heart eyes emoji right at the end.

She gets a response a few hours later. He’s sent the blowing kiss emoji, the blue and orange diamonds and a heart.

Another text comes through telling her to watch Tim and Sid - she checks her phone, she’s got half an hour before it starts.

It's the longest 30 minutes ever. The program finally starts and she can’t stop herself from grinning stupidly when she hears his voice. They ask about her and she leans forward, listening avidly.

“We’re very happy to be together for the next eight years,” he tells them.

Connor punches the air. “Hell yeah we are,” she tells the screen.

“Have you guys just been texting each other happy faces emojis constantly?” Sid asks.

“Yeah, lots of kisses,” Leon says and Connor freezes. Tim and Sid laugh and move quickly on but Connor stares blankly at her phone. On impulse, she opens up her thread of messages to Leon and presses down on the ‘x’ until the screen fills, then she presses send.

He’s still on the phone on the show, but less than a minute after he’s hung up, she gets an identical message back from him. She doesn’t really know what it means, or whether it means anything at all, but she screenshots their last few messages and saves them to her photos.

*

Most of the team head back to Edmonton at the same time, a few days before training camp begin. Connor arrives to find Darnell and Mikayla making out on their sofa so she jumps on them, giggling as Darnell tries to shove her off.

“I’ve added eight pounds,” she tells him proudly, flexing her biceps and giggling some more when Mikayla ooh’s appreciatively. “I’m not so easy to push around now.”

“Yeah, those eight pounds are really gonna make a difference, buddy,” Darnell tells her solemnly.

“They sure are,” Connor agrees, and punches his arm as she scrambles off the two of them and heads for the kitchen, grinning when she sees Darnell surreptitiously rubbing his arm when he thinks she’s not looking.

“You seen Leon yet?” he asks, settling back on the sofa with Mikayla tucked under his arm.

She looks up, taken as always with how good they look together. There’s a level of comfort between them that she supposes comes with being together for as long as they have. “Not yet, I’ve only been back five minutes,” she says. “Have you?”

“Going over there tomorrow evening, you wanna come?”

It’s been months since she last saw him, since she left him in his bed after the best sex of her life, but she still doesn’t feel ready to face him, which is dumb since they’re linemates and the season starts soon. But she definitely doesn’t want to see him for the first time at his place, with Darnell as a fucking witness.

“Can’t,” she says, trying to sound regretful. From the way Darnell’s eyes narrow, she probably failed. “Promised Nuge I’d go round. He’s feeling weird about being here while his boyfriend and their girlfriend are in another division together and he’s stuck up here.”

“You think he might ask for a trade?”

“No, I don’t think so,” she says slowly before shrugging. “Who knows? He loves them and it’s gonna be tough without them, that’s for sure.”

So she goes to see Nuge and they commiserate over Ebs’ trade and she somehow makes it to camp without seeing Leon at all. He’s been blowing up her phone with texts, complaining about her schedule and trying to finagle an invite round, but she’s mostly ignored them, feeling unprepared and annoyed at herself because she’s being an asshole to him.

She sees him in the locker room and her hands immediately feel clammy. He looks so good, better than she remembers. He’s talking to Klef but she sees Oscar nudge him and nod towards where she’s standing in the doorway, watching them.

“Connor!” His face lights up and she finds herself being picked up and swung around, her hands landing on his shoulders for balance before she laughs, unable to stop herself, and demands that he puts her down.

“Miss me?” she asks, because she hates herself and because she’s genuinely curious.

“Every day,” he tells her seriously, before they’re swept into a hug by Patty.

“Hey lineys,” Pat greets them. “I mean lovebirds. Finally reunited and legally committed to spending the next eight years together, what a summer huh?”

Connor rolls her eyes, her heart thumping painfully. “Get ready for the fitness test, guys. Hope you’ve all stuck to your summer training plans.”

A groan rolls around the room and she silently agrees with them. But they’ll get out on the ice tomorrow, it’s only one more day.

*

Connor hits the ice with a smile so wide that her mouth actually starts to ache. She pushes hard during warmups and the first few drills, and then it’s down to the scrimmages. She dekes and dangles and laughs in delight as her teammates curse and swear when she gets past them.

“It’s not my fault you’re all rusty, boys,” she chirps when Darnell mimes throwing his stick at her after a filthy dangle just to embarrass him.

She spins around, still laughing when she catches Leon’s gaze, hot and heavy as he watches her. She’s intimately familiar with that look here on the ice but there’s something new about it and it makes her shiver.

Leon notices, of course, and skates slowly towards her. The rest of the guys are busy, either scrimmaging or catching up on gossip with each other, so Leon’s able to lean in close, close enough that he’s right up in her personal space.

“You look good,” he tells her. He’s said those very words to her before a hundred times, but never in the rough, gravelly tone he’s using now. His free hand settles on her back, an innocuous gesture that would mean nothing to anyone who cared to look their way, but Connor can feel the heat of him so close. His gaze dips to her mouth and she licks her lips unconsciously, her breath hitching when Leon’s eyes darken.

“Come over tonight?” he murmurs.

Connor doesn’t have time to answer because Coach blows his whistle, but Leon taps her helmet anyway and skates away, his attention already on whatever drill is coming up next.

After camp finishes for the day, Connor showers and dresses in record time. She grabs her things and is out the door first, which is pretty unusual for her but she needs to get out of there.

She’s been home for all of five minutes when there’s a knock at the door and she knows it’s Leon. She opens the door and steps back to let him in.

“Hi,” she says inanely.

“Hey,” he says back.

Then he’s reaching for her and pulling her in, kissing her with hard, bruising kisses that send her pulse racing.

“That was the longest summer ever,” he tells her when he finally pulls back long enough to speak. She doesn’t really understand what he means, they had the playoffs after all so really it was a much shorter summer than the Oilers are used to in recent years, but he kisses her again and her brain turns to mush.

She doesn’t notice at first, too distracted by this turn of events and being kissed to within an inch of her life, but she finally realizes that he’s manoeuvred her into her bedroom, the door slamming shut behind them.

Leon presses her up against it, his hand wrapping around her wrists and pinning them up over her head, his mouth moving down over her neck, across her collarbone and back up to capture her lips.

“Been thinking about this all summer,” Leon says. He makes quick work of taking off her clothes - she helps by tugging off her oilers t-shirt and flicking the clasp on her bra - until she’s utterly naked in front of him, while he stays fully clothed.

For some reason, that’s really doing it for her.

Leon backs her into the bed, waiting until she’s flat on her back before he sinks to his knees and licks at her folds.

Connor yelps in surprise but Leon doesn’t stop there. He licks and tongues her until she’s dripping, finally sitting back on his heels, his mouth shiny with her taste.

Apparently that does it for him as much as it does it for her because when he stands up, his cock is hard, tenting obviously in his sweats and Connor’s mouth goes dry.

He strips quickly, barely giving her time to catalogue the differences in his body from before. There’s no exhaustion hiding behind his eyes this time, they’re clear and heated and never stop roaming up and down her body.

The weight of him feels familiar now. The way he kisses her with finesse until he’s too far gone, when it turns a little rough and sloppy, that’s familiar too.

“You’ve put on muscle,” he murmurs, his hands skimming over her hips and squeezing tight. “You look good. So fucking good. I wanted to strip you down at center ice today, wanted to kiss you and see if you tasted as good as I remembered.”

Connor’s trembling, overwhelmed. “Do I?” she asks, shakier than she’d like to be.

“Better,” he tells her and rolls a nipple between his forefinger and thumb. She gasps, her back bowing as she pushes into his touch.

He lathes her other breast with his tongue, bites down gently on her nipple and swallows her moans with his mouth and his tongue.

He reaches down between them, his fingers stroking into her wetness. “Slow?” he asks quietly, and she knows what he’s asking. She also knows he has no right to know, that she’s not obligated to tell him that she hasn’t been with anyone but him. That it’s been over a year since she’s been with anyone else. There’s no way he’s been celibate over the summer, but she’s not asking him who he’s fucked in the last four months. She doesn’t want to know.

She shakes her head anyway and barely bites back a scream when he sinks two fingers into her.

“I wanna hear you,” he tells her, thumbing at her bottom lip. “I want to make you scream.”

He kisses her again, dragging moan after moan from her lips, his fingers working inside of her until she’s stretched enough to take another one. The sensation hits her until she feels dizzy with it.

“Leon,” she gasps, throws her head back and comes, his fingers never stopping as she rides out her orgasm.

When he finally pulls out, he starts searching her room for a condom, pulling one out from the back of her nightstand drawer.

“Connor,” he says urgently, on his knees between her legs. “Connor, I need to be inside you.

“Okay,” she nods, pulling him down towards her because she needs that too. Wants it desperately. But he holds back, ignores her hurt look and flips them over until he’s flat on his back and she’s straddling his hips, looking down at him in surprise while he grins up at her.

He slips two fingers between them and strokes her clit, biting his lip as she cries out, oversensitive and yet she grinds down onto his fingers, wringing out the sensation of having something to grind against.

His hands settle on her hips and he lifts her up effortlessly. She tries not to be impressed but she’s a professional hockey player. She’ll never be the biggest player in the league but she’s sturdy and no one would ever accuse her of being delicate.

He positions her just right and she sinks down onto his cock in one smooth move, feeling the slight ache of muscles unused. She’s unprepared for the feel of him sliding into her again and she lets out a low whine at the rightness of it all.

Leon’s hands are still on her hips and she can feel the bite of his fingers as they dig into her flesh. Last time, she’d been able to trace his fingerprints as they’d marked her skin for days after he’d left Edmonton.

She wants it again.

She squeezes her thighs and hears him punch out a breath. She tilts her hips back just a little and it’s so good.

“Come on, babe,” Leon urges her, his voice shaking just a little. When she looks down at him, he’s staring up at her, that familiar heat burning in his eyes for her. She feels powerful under that gaze, like she can do anything she wants.

She starts to move then, tiny little movements of her hips as she rocks back and forth. “I missed you,” she breathes, her eyes half closed as she feels her orgasm building slowly. She loves being in control, loves watching Leon watching her. It’s heady and she’s drunk on it. On him.

“Show me,” he all but growls and he slides his fingers between them, finding her clit with unerring accuracy.

She cries out, lost in sensation as she speeds up her movements, using her strong thighs to ride him faster, his thick cock impaling her each time until she’s trembling. She’s so close, so full, so fucking in love with him.

When her orgasm hits, it's like a tidal wave crashing over her. She can’t hold herself up through it, falling forward and feeling Leon wrap his arms around her, her breasts pressing against the hard muscular wall of his chest. His hips snap up and she lifts her head up high enough to kiss him, her tongue sliding against his as he pistons into her again. Leon freezes, his body taut as he comes with her name on his lips.

She can feel him panting underneath her where she’s sprawled against him, her head cushioned by his chest. His hands are on her hips, brushing down over the curve of her ass every so often before they settle on her hips again.

It takes an embarrassingly long time for them to catch their breath, considering they’re young professional hockey players, time enough for him to strip off the condom and disappear into the bathroom for a few moments, coming back to slide in underneath her. She lazily traces her finger across his chest, dipping down to the slight definition of his abdominals before skating back up, circling his nipple and smiling when he shivers against her, his hand coming up to rest against hers, stilling her movements.

“You missed me, huh?” she murmurs, wanting to hear him say it again.

“Maybe a little,” he says, nuzzling into her shoulder. He bites down, just a little, just enough to send a zing of pleasure shooting down her spine. “God, Connor. You looked so good out there on the ice today. I forget. It’s so stupid, but I forget how good you look out there. It’s like watching magic.”

“Did you miss me or my hockey?” she asks, only half-joking.

“Connor, you are hockey,” he says, amused. He slides his fingers through her hair and doesn’t seem to notice how still she’s gone.

She’s slept with guys before who were only interested in her because she’s Connor McDavid, future hockey superstar. Not many, but enough to keep her guard up, to spot the calculating glances and smooth lines when they try to chat her up.

She hadn’t had her guard up with Leon. How could she, when she’s so stupidly in love with him?

Of course he loves her hockey. They’re both fucking idiots for each other’s hockey. She gets hot when she watches him on the ice; his smooth gliding gait, his quick hands, his big, strong body.

But she’s not fucking him for his hockey.

“I need to shower,” she says, turning her face away when he turns to look at her. She drops a kiss to his shoulder and slides out of bed, stretching like a cat in the sun. She’s hurting, just a little, and the way his eyes caress her body helps. Just a little.

“Want company?” he asks, rolling over onto his belly.

“Darnell will be home soon.” She glances at the clock for show, she knows he won’t be back for a few more hours.

“Oh,” Leon says, frowning. “I should go then, I guess.”

“Yeah, okay.” Connor’s relieved. She needs some time to think. She needs time away from Leon, away from the emotions swirling inside of her.

He dressed quickly, shooting her little smiles that make her traitorous insides feel warm and fuzzy. She’s still naked when he pulls her towards him, humming happily when she goes easily.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, his accent deepening as it does sometimes. He’s not looking at her face, not staring deep into her eyes like they do in the movies. He’s looking down at her hockey-honed body, his hands on her waist. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” she agrees. She’ll make sure Darnell third wheels them for her own sanity.

He kisses her then, lets it linger for a few moments before he says goodbye and slips out of her bedroom. She hears the front door close and sinks down onto the bed, runs her hand over the warm sheets.

She’s so, so stupid when it comes to Leon. But she can be smarter. She can be a lot of things, if she needs to be.

*

They play Dallas at home early in the season. They’ve been so busy getting back into the swing of games, long hours travelling and the routine of hard practices that keep any off ice activities to a quick beer at a bar on the way home or a game of chel before passing out on the sofa. She’s caught Leon staring at her a few times - more than a few times - making her flush and drawing out his smirk while he watches her, but he hasn’t so much as kissed her since that day.

It kind of hurts, but she was hardly expecting anything else. Leon only ever stares at her when she’s on the ice, when her hockey turns him on. The realization hurts, but she has a half-baked plan when she calls Segs and asks if she can pick her up from her hotel after she’d flown in and suffered through an early practice.

“Are you sure about this?” Tyler asks, pausing with her hand on the door. “Because, don’t get me wrong, I think this is amazing and I’ve been itching to do this for years, but you have to be sure. It’s a big change, Davo.”

Connor thinks about Leon’s hands on her body and the way he watches her skate. “I’m sure,” she says, with feeling, and lets Segs pull her inside.

*

Segs actually claps her hands excitedly when they leave the salon and drags her into another store where she’s lectured for two hours on how to properly apply the makeup that Segs encourages her to buy.

“How much are you enjoying this?” Connor asks her when she convinces Tyler to take a break, sitting in a cafe and letting her feet rest. Shopping is ten times more tiring than a hard hockey practice.

“About as much as you’re hating every minute,” Segs says, grinning from behind her berry smoothie. “I don’t get why you’re putting yourself through this though when you’re clearly not enjoying yourself.”

“There’s nothing wrong with making an effort.” Connor stirs her cappuccino idly. “That’s what you always say, right?”

“I knew it was a boy!” Segs doesn’t look particularly happy though. “Connor. If he doesn’t like you for who you are, terrible hair styling and Otter sweats and all, then he’s an asshole who isn’t worth your time. Fuck him.”

“Yeah, that’s what Dylan said,” Connor sighs. “And I know you’re right, but I’ve never been this girl, Segs. I’ve never dressed up or cared about my makeup or fussed with my hair. I don’t know how you find time with hockey.”

“I am truly gifted,” Tyler tells her, smirking. “If you want to do this for you, then great. You look amazing. But guess what, dumb dumb? You looked amazing before, too.”

Connor snorts inelegantly. “No I didn’t,” she says, kicking Tyler under the table.

“Let me let you into a little secret, oh baby Otter,” Tyler sighs, putting down her drink and leaning forward, resting her elbows on her thighs. “You can wear all the makeup you like. You can get your hair done perfectly, you can buy the tightest, most revealing clothes in the world and wear a bra that pushes those boobs up and in like magic. And it might get you laid. Great! But when you wake up in the morning, your makeup will be scrubbed off, your hair tangled if he’s doing it right and your boobs will be the same old boobs you’ve always had, because you’re the same person you’ve always been.”

Connor stares at her.

“Look, there’s nothing wrong with all that stuff. Hell, I love it. Jamie loves it. But when I wake up in the morning looking like shit and whining at Benny to get me breakfast, he loves me then too.”

Connor giggles. “Well, how could he not?”

“True,” Tyler says and there’s a brief, faraway look in her eyes, a smile playing on her lips. “You gonna tell me this guy’s name then?”

“Absolutely not,” Connor says firmly.

“So it’s not the beautiful Leon then, hmm?”

Connor stares at her in disbelief.

“Hallsy and I talk, believe it or not,” Tyler shrugs. “At least you’ve got good taste. He’s gorgeous.”

“I’ll let Benn know that you think so,” Connor says dryly.

“Who says I’m the only one in my relationship who thinks so?” Tyler says, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. “Now lets hit Victoria’s Secret. I bet your underwear drawer is full of sports bras and no lace.”

“Sounds itchy,” Connor says morosely.

Tyler bursts into a peal of laughter. “Oh Davo. You have so much to learn, still.”

*

She walks into the locker room and gets a very satisfying hush of silence before Patty lets loose with a wolf whistle. Normally, she wouldn’t let that behavior slide, not even here in the locker room, but Patty’s reaching out for her and forcing her to do a twirl. It’s highly embarrassing but she sees the wide-eyed stares of her teammates as she spins slowly around and the most feminine part of her, normally shoved deep down inside for hockey, bubbles up and makes her laugh, as much in relief as glee.

“You alright there, Patty,” she teases him, her hand self-consciously reaching up to run her fingers through her hair. Segs had pulled her into the salon, said words she didn’t understand in the slightest to the stylist and then sat next to her while her hair had been shaped, trimmed and teased into a much shorter style that sits just below her shoulders.

“You look great,” he tells her, low enough that the rest of the team don’t hear him. She grins, pats his cheek and glances around the locker room until she sees Leon. She smiles shyly, ducking her head when he smiles back.

It’s not quite the reaction she’d hoped for, but they are stuck in a room full of their teammates.

It’s a chippy game but Connor does her best to ignore everything except for the play. Segs keeps winking at her and checking Leon, which is hilarious because Segs is tiny next to him. She keeps doing it though, to Connor’s bemusement and every time, Leon skates back to the bench looking confused.

Someone skates up behind her when the puck goes out of play, and she sees a flash of green but they’re too big for it to be Segs.

“Looking good,” Jamie says, his arms wrapped around her shoulders as they coast around the boards together. “Your boy like the new look?”

“Segs talks too much,” is all she says, her face flaming.

She hears Jamie giggle and tap her butt before he skates off, leaving her to coast to the bench. She drops down next to Leon, who looks pretty worked up considering it’s a tight game that hasn’t gotten away from them yet.

She taps his pads with her stick. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he says shortly. But he taps her pads back, and she grins, eyes back on the game.

*

Connor takes a little extra time after she hits the showers to fix her hair and apply some mascara and lip gloss. It’s 100% more effort than she usually makes, so she’s counting it as a win to go with their win on the ice.

They go out to celebrate and she heads to the bar to buy the first round, captains privilege.

The bartender flirts with her a little as she waits for him to fill her order, making her flush happily. It’s harmless and it boosts her ego a little, and she thinks she understands what Segs was trying to tell her earlier. On her way back to the team, she’s stopped three times by cute guys who want to congratulate her on the win. She tries not to be awkward, like she usually is, and she thinks she does a half decent job. Then she’s finally back at the table and Darnell is giving her the thumbs up for some reason and Nuge keeps waving his hands at her, but she doesn’t know what he’s trying to tell her.

She leans on the back of Leon’s chair and waits for him to finish his conversation with Talbo. Eventually he leans back and tips his head, looks up at her, his lips curved into a smirk that really does it for her.

“Hi,” she says sweetly.

He stands up abruptly, wraps his hand gently around her wrist and pulls her away from the table. “Hi,” he says when they’re far enough away from the rest of the guys. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I see you every day,” Connor hedges, flashes him a shy smile. “I’ve been kinda busy?”

“Too busy for me?” Leon asks with a frown.

“No, of course not,” she tells him, her smile slipping just a little. “But- don't you like my hair?” she blurts out. She’s been so excited to show him her new look but he hasn’t said a word about it and she’s starting to feel uncomfortable.

“It’s nice,” Leon says, and it might sound sincere to someone who doesn’t know him as well as she does. But his voice is a little flat and he’s not looking at her with that heat she wants so badly off the ice, out of his bed.

He catches a stand of her hair in his fingers and tugs gently. She waits, but he doesn’t seem to have anything else to say and she feels like an idiot.

She should have listened to Dylan and Tyler. No, she thinks. She shouldn’t have kissed him before the summer. She was perfectly fine being Leon’s friend and going home alone and not having mind blowing sex with her linemate who she’s kind of in love with.

She’s so stupid. She knew Leon’s type and she thought she could compete. But all he loves is her hockey. He loves Connor the hockey player, he’s not interested in Connor as a potential girlfriend. She’s so stupid and in love with him and she thought maybe she could be what he wanted. But apparently even her best isn’t good enough. Leon barely even noticed her transformation, which tells her all she needs to know.

Connor feels awful, sick to her stomach. Who she is isn’t enough for Leon and she’s already bent as far as she can go before she breaks. And Leon could so easily break her into pieces.

“Hey, we should get out of here,” he says quietly. His hand skims down her back and his thumb slides under her shirt, rubbing circles into her warm skin.

Connor wants to laugh at how obtuse he is to what she’s feeling right now, what she’s been feeling since the moment she met him, but she’s afraid that she’ll break if she does. She folds her arms across her chest and feels like she’s barely holding herself together.

“No,” she forces herself to say, although it comes out as a whisper. He clearly hears it though, his hand dropping from her waist as if he’s been burned, stepping back with a confused look on his face. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Leon’s face suddenly goes blank and Connor inexplicably feels a sob rising in her throat.

“Sorry,” she says thickly.

“Don’t be,” he tells her, putting his hands in his pockets. “It’s fine.”

His gaze skims past her. Her stomach drops, and she wonders who he’s looking at, or for. There’s pretty girls swimming around them; there always is when they go out as a team, and suddenly she needs to not be there. She can’t sit here, in this bar, and watch Leon go home with someone that’s not her.

“I’ve got to go,” she says and grabs her purse. “Say goodbye to everyone for me, yeah?”

She doesn’t wait to hear what he says, just makes a beeline for the door and waits for a car to arrive. It’s cold tonight. It’s always cold, she thinks bleakley. When she finally arrives home, she gets in the shower and lets the hot water cascade over her, washing away her makeup and sluicing her hair out of its styling.

She ties her hair up into a top knot, shoves the bag from Victoria’s Secret under her bed, climbs under the covers and tries not to think about the next eight years.

*

They don’t talk about it. They don’t talk much at all. They’re still on the same line so it’d be impossible for them to not talk at all, and besides Connor is the captain, she can’t just stop talking to a teammate. The media would jump all over it and the whole team would be disrupted. It could cost them an entire season and Connor wants that Cup.

It’s awkward though. It’s awkward and awful and it starts reflecting in their hockey. They make sloppy mistakes, passes that don’t connect, plays that don’t work. That chemistry that had built so naturally between them just disappears almost overnight, and Connor can only blame herself. All of this is her fault. The team is suffering and no one, except her and Leon and perhaps Darnell know why.

It’s only a matter of time before their line gets split up, with Leon moving to the third line. It’s another thing for Connor to feel guilty about, since her minutes remain the same while his dip a little. He doesn’t give any indication that he minds though, which just makes her feel worse.

*

Leon’s concussion scares the hell out of Connor. At first the injury had seemed minor, but the swelling hadn’t stopped and he missed a few practices and now he’s on injured reserve. She’s texted him a few times to check in on him, but now she’s seriously concerned.

She texts him and asks if she can come over, waiting anxiously for his reply. She needs to make sure he’s okay, or at least going to be okay, and then she can stop worrying like a fucking mother hen. He texts her a simple ‘okay’ and she’s in her car before she can think or second-guess herself.

She doesn’t use her key when she arrives and feels awkward as she rings the doorbell. He answers, dressed in loose sweats and an Oilers t-shirt that feels too cold for the time of year.

“I got you soup,” she says, pushing the container into his hands before she shoves her own into her pockets. “My mom always makes me soup when I’m ill.”

“You know I don’t have a cold, right?” Leon says, a hint of teasing in his voice and she immediately relaxes, huffing out a self-deprecating laugh.

“I know, but I don’t know what you’re supposed to bring for a concussion,” she admits. “How’re you feeling?”

“Frustrated,” he says immediately before he shakes his head. “Annoyed, mostly. I want to be out there. I should be out there.”

“You will be,” she says firmly. She’d driven herself mad last year while she was out of the lineup. “You’ll get there, I promise.”

“Yes, Captain,” he says dryly.

She laughs and something loosens in her chest. They’re going to be alright, she just knows it. So long as she keeps her stupid feelings to herself, they’ll be okay.

“You want to stay and eat?” he asks, holding up her soup.

“I can’t,” she says with regret. She surprises herself with how much she wants to stay. She’s missed him so much and he’s here in front of her, teasing her and calling her captain. Of course she wants to stay. There’s nowhere else she wants to be, but she has commitments. “Look after yourself?”

Leon rolls his eyes but it feels friendly. It feels familiar. “Of course,” he says, lifting his hand to cross over his heart. “I think they’re gonna clear me for practice soon.”

Connor glances at the bruise under his eye and has to hold herself back from reaching out to touch it. “We miss you out there,” she tells him.

Leon catches her gaze and holds it for a long moment. “You’re a good friend, Connor,” he says finally. He reaches out to tug on a strand of her hair, the way he always does. God, she’s missed him. She closes her eyes and leans into him just a little. “My best friend.”

Connor’s breath hitches and she opens her eyes to find him staring at her, soup still in hand. “Come back soon, yeah? No one else can keep up with me.”

It’s perhaps a little too honest, but he smiles and she thinks it’s totally, absolutely worth it.

*

Leon’s cleared to play against the Pens. They lose in a tight game, but Leon’s out there with her on the ice so the loss doesn’t feel as brutal as the Flyers game. They’re playing Dallas at home next, and while Connor is looking forward to seeing Segs again so soon, she doesn’t feel up to being cross-examined about Leon. Luckily the Stars are flying in the night before and leaving straight after the game, so there’s no time to see Tyler anyway.

She still gets a shit-ton of questions on the ice anyway as their lines match up on almost every shift. Connor doesn’t answer most of them, focuses on the game instead and pushes herself to get the team the win.

Segs sends her a message full of sad face emojis after the game, which Connor replies to with a shrug emoji that gets her another text full of angry faces that make her laugh.

“We’re celebrating,” Darnell tells her in the locker room after the media leaves. “It’s an optional skate in the morning. No excuses.”

She follows him home and they change into something less formal than their game day suits. She leaves her hair tied back in its usual ponytail and barely stops to apply mascara, the only residuals she has from her disastrous makeover attempt. On impulse, she takes the bag of lingerie from under her bed and puts it on, taking a second to admire the way the material clings to her body and enhances curves she didn’t know she had. Then she ruins the effect by pulling on a pair of jeans and a loose shirt, slips her feet into her newest, whitest pair of sneakers and heads out into the hall to harass Darnell into hurrying up.

They hit the bar and it doesn’t take long for Connor to loosen up, especially when Patty insists on plying the entire team with victory shots. She dances with Drake and Klef, shoots the shit with Kass and lets Nursey tease her about what a lightweight she’s become since the summer.

She’s laughing, a hand on Darnell’s arm as she’s about to protest and defend her own honor when she catches his gaze drift over her shoulder. She turns, just to see what he’s looking at, and finds herself staring at Leon talking to a girl at the bar. She’s blonde, Connor notes blankly. Gorgeous. Skinny. She’s laughing, one hand in her hair twirling it around her fingers, the other covering Leon’s hand where it’s resting on the bar.

“Connor,” Darnell says, his voice low. She can’t read his tone, but she knows that he knows more about her situation with Leon than she wants him to.

“I can’t be here,” she says, turning back towards him with pleading eyes. “I can’t watch this.”

There’s pity on his face and she hates it. “Do you want me to come back with you?”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. The hairs on the back of her neck prickle and she needs to leave right now. “I’ll see you at home, okay?”

“Alright,” Darnell says, sounding uncertain.

“I’ll be okay,” she reassures him, offering a wobbly smile. “I promise.”

She leaves without saying goodbye to the team, knowing she’ll get shit for it in the morning but she doesn’t care. She waits patiently on the sidewalk for her car, constantly checking her phone when a hand grabs her arm.

“Connor.”

She turns, opens her mouth to say something - she’s not sure what - when Leon pulls her in and kisses her. Part of her wants to protest, wants to push him away and yell and scream and kick her feet in temper. Instead she reaches up to tangle her hands in his hair and kisses him back, hard and desperate and rough. She wants this. She wants him. She always wants him.

They stumble backwards and she feels Leon hit the wall hard but he doesn’t break the kiss, just gathers her closer to him, his body firm and solid against hers. His hands are gentle on her body but his kiss is filthy, making promises that she desperately wants him to deliver on. It’s stupid, possibly the most stupid thing she’s done in a year of bad mistakes with Leon, but when her car pulls up, she breaks the kiss, grabs his hand and pushes him into the car ahead of her.

There’s nothing friendly in Leon’s eyes when she climbs in next to him. His lips are pink and wet - she did that, she thinks dazedly - and he’s staring at her mouth in return. She flicks her tongue out to wet her lips, giddy when his eyes hungrily follow the movement. She’s not prepared to do anything that would land them in a tabloid-style headline on Deadspin, but she does allow herself to place her hand on his denim-clad thigh, to let it drift up and down again, inching nearer and nearer to her final goal with each stroke.

They’re almost at hers when he clamps his hand down on hers, stopping her movements. She looks up and sees the tension in his face, the clench of his jaw as he holds himself back.

They stumble through the front door together and he spins her around, pressing her up against the door, catching her lips for another kiss while his hands frantically strip her of her clothes. He gets her top off and he’s working on her jeans when he freezes.

Connor sees him staring at the fuschia bra she’d put on earlier for courage. It’s lacy, revealing far more than it covers, and it makes her look fuller than she is naturally. Magic, Segs had called it. While he’s distracted by her bra, she wiggles out of her jeans and watches in delight as he discovers she’s wearing a matching set.

“Do you like it?” she asks throatily.

“Connor,” he groans, bending down to lick her nipple through the material. She gasps, arching upwards and bites back a moan when he starts to suckle her, his hand cupping her other breast and thumbing at her sensitive nipple. She can feel herself getting damp and squeezes her thighs together.

“No, no,” Leon murmurs against her breast. His hand slides down under the waistband of her panties. She hears a muffled noise when he slides his fingers through her wetness, seeking out her heat. “Connor,” he groans, thrusting two fingers inside of her, lifting his head to find her mouth, swallowing the noises she makes as he strokes her quickly to her orgasm.

He gives her a few seconds to recover, her legs shaky and weak, before he skims his hands down over the curve of her ass and to the tops of her thighs and without warning, hauls her up into his arms.

“Oh my god,” she says in disbelief, her long legs wrapping around his waist as she clings to her neck. God, she’d known he was strong; she works out with him most days and she’s seen his hits on the ice, felt the strength in his hands as he’s lifted her in bed. But he’s carrying her as if she weighs nothing. She’s a professional hockey player with mass and muscle, and Leon is striding through her place, carrying her without breaking a sweat.

Overwhelmed, she nuzzles her face into the curve of her neck. “Leon,” she murmurs, her voice breaking on the last syllable.

“I’ve got you,” he says, one of his hands sliding up over her back as he deposits her on the bed. He stands between her splayed thighs, taking his gaze over her body. He hooks two fingers into the waistband of her panties and slowly removes them, pressing a wet kiss to the inside of her knee as he drops them to the floor.

Connor reaches back to unhook her bra and then she’s naked, her feet planted on the bed, looking up at him as he trails his fingers up her calves and back down to her ankles. Then he steps back and she gets the pleasure of watching him strip off all his clothes, admiring his body as he flexes and moves, all quiet strength and easy grace.

Then he’s back between her legs, one hand on her knee as the other sweeps down her thigh, making her shiver in anticipation.

“I told you before that I wanted to hear you scream,” he murmurs, his gaze hot when he finally looks up at her. There’s a smirk playing on his lips and she groans, shifting her hips against the mattress. He laughs, soft and knowing, before he sinks to his knees and pulls her towards him.

He uses his tongue to lick her, quick little movements that make her squirm but bring her no relief. “Stay still,” he tells her before he closes his mouth around her clit and sucks. He’s not gentle, but she doesn’t want gentle right now. She’s still sensitive from her first orgasm and it gives every sensation he coaxes from her a slight edge, just the right side of pain.

She tries to be still, she really does. But he’s going to town on her, his mouth wet and warm as he sets her body on fire, and she bucks against him helplessly.

His grip on her thighs tighten and she swears, loudly. His thumbs dig into her soft flesh and she knows what he wants, what he’s trying to drag out of her. Her hands find his hair and she tugs, just a little. Just enough to make him shudder against her.

He slips a finger inside of her where she’s still wet from before and it’s a lot. It’s almost too much but she wraps her legs around his shoulders and silently urges him on.

She can feel her orgasm building, slower this time. He adds another finger and she starts fucking babbling, unable to stop herself telling him how good he feels inside of her, how much she loves his mouth, how wet she is for him.

He speeds up, his fingers fucking in and out of her and her back bows up off the mattress, she’s so close. So close.

He presses his tongue against her clit and sucks hard enough to make her see fucking stars.

“Leon,” she gasps before a scream is dragged out of her, fingers twisting in his hair as she clenches around his fingers and comes.

When she finally catches her breath, she’s tucked up against Leon’s chest and he dips his head to kiss her sweeter than he usually does.

“Hi,” he says eventually, brushing his nose against hers.

“Hi,” she echoes, presses a kiss to the curve of his jaw. Her brain feels like it’s only running at half-speed and it takes her a few seconds to realize that the pressure against her hip is his cock, hard and leaking just from seeing her come twice.

She brushes her hand over his hip, hears him suck in a sharp breath as her fingers tease a trail over his skin, drifting lower until she takes him in hand.

“I owe you a few orgasms,” she murmurs, kissing his jaw again before she shifts over him and wiggles down. Presses a wet kiss to his chest, lets her lips brush over his nipple before she wiggles further down, settling between his legs. She jacks him slowly, her thumb trailing the underside of his cock. She nuzzles into his thigh and applies a little more pressure with her hand, humming happily when he growls and pushes up into her hand.

She licks her lips and bends down to take him into her mouth, craving his taste, when his hand brushes over her jaw, cups her cheek to tilt her head until she’s looking up at him questioningly.

“You don’t have to,” he says, his voice strained.

She blinks up at him before she looks pointedly at his dick where it’s leaking into her hand, flushed and full.

“I mean it,” he insists. His thumb strokes over her lips, dips inside where she sucks on the tip for a second. His eyes track the movement.

“I’ve been letting you do all the work,” Connor says, letting his thumb fall away from her mouth. “You look like you’re in need of an assist.”

Leon’s gaze turns hot and she laughs softly. Strokes her hand down his shaft. Then she leans in, keeps her gaze locked on Leon’s so she can watch, and takes him into her mouth.

He fills her mouth, heavy on her tongue and she takes a moment to enjoy the feel of him. Her tongue swirls around his head and he looks like he’s in pain, but the hand he curls around the back of her head is gentle. She moves then, achingly slow, drawing out low, desperate noises from Leon, feeling him tremble under her hands.

“Connor,” he whispers fiercely, his hips jerking up hard enough to make her gag. She pulls off, eyes watering and he curses, strokes his hand through her hair. “Sorry. Fuck, sorry, Connor.”

She coughs once then lets him draw her up until they’re level. She reaches over to grab a condom, drops it into his hand. “Make it up to me?”

Leon kisses her hard as he rips open the packet, flips them so he can kneel and roll the condom on. He slips his hand between her legs and strokes into her a few times before he lifts his hand to his mouth and licks his fingers, his eyes locked on hers.

“Yeah?” he asks, the question familiar by now.

“Yes, come on,” she says impatiently.

He smirks, leans down over her and guides himself in. He goes slow, almost as slow as she’d been earlier, and she figures it’s a retaliation that she’ll have to suffer through, inch by excruciating inch.

He’s watching her, hovering above her so she can’t do anything but stare back. One hand settles on her hips, his thumb tracing circles on her skin as he sinks into her so, so slowly. Her breath hitches and she wonders if she’ll ever stop wanting this from him.

It feels like hours have passed before he’s finally fully inside her. He’s trembling above her and she almost wants to urge him on, to beg for him to speed up. But going slow is really doing it for her and she wants to draw this out for as long as they can.

“Okay?” he asks again gruffly.

She nods, unable to speak.

Leon shifts his weight and brushes his mouth over hers in a ghost of a kiss. She turns her head, whining when his lips leave hers until he kisses her again, slow and soft and achingly lovely. His hips roll slowly and she can feel every inch of him inside her.

“Leon,” she breathes against his lips.

He keeps kissing her. He kisses her while his hands map her body, stroking long smooth lines over her skin. He kisses her as he teases circling caresses around her breast. He kisses her as he slowly increases the speed of his thrusts, going long and deep until she’s awash with sensations, on the verge of sobbing his name.

“Connor,” he murmurs and she pauses, but that’s all he says, just her name over and over as he pushes into her and slides back again. She smoothes her hands down his back, her nails digging into his skin as she rides closer to her orgasm.

“Please,” she begs. She arches her back, rocking her hips up to meet his. “Please, please Leon, please.” She's trembling with need, her body coated with a thin film of sweat.

Leon’s lips capture hers just as he reaches between them and flicks his thumb over clit. It’s all the stimulation she needs to send her tumbling over the edge with a soft cry, his name on her lips. It only takes him a few more strokes to follow her, his face buried in the curve of her shoulder.

She stares up at the ceiling, Leon heavily draped over her. They’re both breathing hard and Connor’s almost certain that she’ll never move ever again.

She’s just starting to drift off when Leon climbs off the bed and pads into the bathroom. She opens her eyes and listens to the sounds of running water and turns her head away. The bed dips a few minutes later and she pretends to be asleep, keeping her breathing even and steady. Leon rolls her gently onto her side and he curls up behind her, tucking his legs behind hers, his hand possessive on her hip. She feels the slightest touch to her hair and drifts easily off to sleep.

*

Connor wakes up to bright sunlight streaming into the room, forcing her to blink blearily to focus her vision. Leon’s sitting up, watching her, his hand resting in her hair.

She still feels a little off-balance from the night before, unsure and vulnerable. She looks away from his searching gaze and stares at the floor where his clothes are lying in a heap. “This was a mistake,” she says quietly.

There’s a pause where all she can hear is the thump of her heart in her chest, thudding loudly. His hand slips away and he climbs out of bed, leaving her to pull the covers up as high as she can, feeling utterly miserable.

He tugs on his boxers and pulls his jeans on, keeping his back to her. He doesn’t fasten them, his hands resting on the waistband when he turns back towards her and there’s anger etched on his face. “I can’t keep doing this, Connor. I can’t keep getting jerked around by you. You’re fucking with my head.”

Connor stares at him blankly before his words sink in and her eyes grow wide. “I’m not fucking with you,” she says, unable to keep the shock from her voice. She’s not the one fucking around here.

“What would you call it then?” he asks, combing his fingers through his hair as his expression morphs into frustration. “You keep sleeping with me and throwing me away the next morning. I can’t keep up with you.” He laughs, but it sounds ugly. Broken. “As usual. I thought this was real. I kept thinking it was real, I was so fucking sure.”

“Don’t,” she says shakily, closing her eyes. Blocking him out. “It can’t be real. You might think it is, but you’re confused. I’m not even your type, Leon. You just like my hockey.”

“Of course I like your hockey,” he says. “I love your hockey, Connor. Who doesn’t love it?”

Connor feels like crying. She rubs her hands over her eyes, finally opening them to find Leon standing in front of her, close enough to touch. “I was so dumb,” she whispers, more to herself than him. “I can’t compete with those girls. I don’t know why I even bothered, since you didn’t even notice.”

Leon looks utterly confused. “What? I feel like we’re having two entirely different conversations.”

Connor musters up a tremulous smile. “I’m not pretty like Sid,” she tells him. “Or hot, like Segs. No one’s asking me to pose half-naked for any photoshoots.”

“Well, obviously,” Leon says with a frown. A hurt sob wracks through her body and Leon reaches for her, flinching when she pulls herself out of his reach. “Connor, of course you’re not like Seguin or Crosby. You’re Connor. You’re gorgeous, whether you play hockey or not. I’m not going to deny that your hockey is gorgeous, but that’s got nothing to do with you as a person off the ice. You’re beautiful and you’ve always been beautiful.”

“No,” Connor says, shaking her head. “No I’m not, Leon.”

“You were gorgeous before Seguin took you shopping and you’re gorgeous now,” he tells her firmly. He reaches out again and she lets him drop down onto the bed, doesn’t move when his hands grasp around her arms. “How do you not know this? I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, or perhaps I said the wrong thing. I was just surprised and fucking jealous. I’ve never felt it before. I wanted to fight Benn when he put his hands on you on the ice. Then I had to watch those guys hit on you in the bar, watch as they flirted with you and I couldn’t fucking bear it.”

Connor can’t digest what he’s telling her, but, “you know that Jamie Benn is dating Tyler, right? Tell me you know this.”

Leon flushes and looks away. “Yeah. But I thought- it doesn’t much matter what I thought. I still wanted to kill him. Then you stopped talking to me and everything got fucked up.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she insists. “None of it fucking matters.”

“Of course it matters!” he explodes, making her jump in surprise. He drags a hand over his face and takes a deep breath. He’s never been quick to temper, not in the two years years and change that she’s known him. His hand trembles where it rests on the back of his neck. “Shit, I’m sorry. Connor, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout.”

“It’s okay,” she tells him.

“I just- none of this makes any fucking sense to me,” he says. “I can read you so easily on the ice. I know exactly what you want to do and where you’re gonna place the puck. You’re an open book for me, Connor. But it’s like you switched languages or something over the summer. I keep trying to read you and I can’t, no matter how hard I try.”

“Me?” she stares at him in disbelief.

“Yes,” he says firmly. “What did you say? That you weren’t my type, that you couldn’t compete? You don’t get it, Connor. You don’t understand anything. Yes, I have a type. I found that out last year. My type, as you call it, is blond, slim, beautiful.” He cups her cheek in his hand. “My type is you, Connor. I like crooked mouths and fierce intensity. I like a woman who can be so graceful on the ice that it takes my breath away and is such a klutz at any other sport that I’m genuinely afraid for you half the time. You don’t need to compete with anyone, Connor. You are the competition.”

“No,” Connor says, her heart racing as her body betrays her. She wants to believe him, god does she want to believe him, but she can’t. “I don’t believe you. It’s not true. It can’t be.”

“Why not?” Leon asks, slipping his hand from her cheek back into her hair. He leans in just a little, pausing to search her eyes before he catches her mouth in a kiss.

She sobs and holds onto him as he runs his hands over her body, whispering to her a non-stop commentary about how much he loves her body, her hands, her face, her mouth. He turns her inside out until she’s crying silent tears, kissing him with every fiber of her being. He puts on a condom and slips inside her easily. Rolls her so she’s on top and in control. Stares at her with open adoration as she rides him slowly. He strokes her clit with one hand, the other on her hip, holding her up as she rocks over him. She leans down to kiss him and he keeps her there, turns his head and finds her ear.

He whispers, “I love you,” as she comes and holds her tight when she falls apart in his arms.

When she can move again, several long minutes later, Connor smacks her palm against his chest, then traces a heart over his.

“You don’t have to say it back,” he tells her softly, catching her hand and twisting until their fingers are entwined.

“I want to,” she says. Her heart feels like it’s going to burst in her chest if she doesn’t.

Leon cups the back of her head and pulls her in for a slow, thorough kiss that makes her head spin. He loves her.

“I’ve waited this long for you,” he tells her. He twists a strand of her hair around his finger. “I can wait a little longer.”

(Connor blurts it out two weeks later after they beat the Islanders in overtime. She snipes the puck from a breathtakingly beautiful pass from Leon to win the game and barges into his hotel room afterwards, barely noticing that he’s naked except from a towel around his waist, water still dripping down his body.

“That pass,” she says breathlessly, throwing herself into his arms and knocking them both back onto the bed. “Leon, that fucking pass.”

“Are you sure you’re not just with me for my beautiful hockey?” he teases her, busily trying to free her hair from it’s ponytail. She’s learned in the past two weeks that not only is Leon pretty much hot for her all the time, but he’s kind of low-key obsessed with her hair. He’s always trying to convince her to wear it loose, the way he likes it best. She’s ignored him so far, even if she likes how hard he tries to change her mind, but she indulges him here, when it’s just the two of them.

“Oh, shut up,” she tells him happily before she kisses him, grinding against his body and laughing when he growls and starts taking her clothes off.

“You need to be naked right now,” he tells her fervently.

He rewards her assist with two orgasms, assisted by his mouth both times.

“The way you spun around and got me the puck,” she says breathlessly as he slides into her. “No one else could have done that, Leon.”

“Babe,” Leon groans, sliding a hand under her thigh and hitching her leg up so he can slide deeper inside of her. “Stop talking, please.”

“Fuck,” she moans, ignoring him as she rolls her hips, urging him to go faster. “I love you for more than your hockey, I promise.”

She whines when he freezes, digging her heel into his back to try to get him to just fucking move.

“Now?” he says incredulously. “You’re telling me you love me for the first time now?”

Connor laughs, her eyes shining as he fucks into her. “I guess I am,” she pants.

“Fuck, I love you,” Leon mutters.

“I know,” she manages to gasp before he’s driving her over the cliff and tumbling after her.)


End file.
